N I G H T R I D E R S
by youtrashqueen
Summary: A legacy long forgotten in the smoke and fire that tore it down, ready to rise once more from the ashes. Such is, the story of the faerie princess that gripped the heart of prince Thranduil and left it to rot in grief and wrath. Fate has a wicked way of creating webs for people to tangle into, so what will happen when a King and a crownless Queen will meet again?
1. Chapter 1

_hey everyone!_

 _this is an attempt at a thranduil x oc story, which means that it's fiction, so take it as such_

 _this is not self-insert, but oc-insert, so tell me how I did through comments! love getting reviews and messages_

 _the explanations for the words used will be at the bottom of the story!_

* * *

Silver tresses blown wildly by wind, fair skin plagued by dirt as empty ice blue eyes searched relentlessly through smoke and fire. Her bare feet touched the ground painfully, while the robe she wore, was tightened into fistfuls of blue silk around her body. Her lips trembled as fat tears clung to cheeks, her chest swelling with so much pain she could not even describe in words. Her erratic sobs were shattered by her throat, knot after knot preventing her from mourning as her chest tightened and her stomach turned. Her home –her palace, her family, her everything burned to ashes and she could do nothing while her kingdom fell. She could not fight by her brother's side or abide her sister with healing, or even stand by her mother and father while the orcs came and tore everything down.

With a choked cry, the silver-haired faerie fell on her knees, the cloak falling from her body as she bowed her head, warm trails of tears running hotly down her face as her eyes tightened shut. Why had she been so foolish? Why did she have to defy her father and run just to prove something so stupid to him, just to show him that she could disobey his orders, that he was not her king but her father? Now she was left with nothing but the burnt corpses of her kin and the ruins of the once white marble palace. Her cries did not cease as she slammed her fists in the dirt over and over again, body shaking violently as she yelled and cursed, a pair of transparent wings raising at her back, fluttering with every quiver of her body.

 **...**

Shea, the youngest of her siblings, daughter of the Faerie King Fafner and Faerie Queen Luel, was now alone in a world she did not know of. She had returned after remaining with no food or supplies in the small house at the center of the forest that surrounded the palace, a house her father built for her to go to when she needed time alone –but the forest was vast and mighty and only the smell of smoke that was carried through alerted her of something which was no good. It was then that she saw the sight before her and her knees weakened –of course, she gathered herself enough to run through the doors to the palace, over the bridges that curled around the high towers of the ivory giant, she ran up the steps of her home, seeing only blood and corpses afire, her heart throbbing and panic rising with every stride she could make.

She found her brother, Rani, heir to her father's throne, a sword stuck in his chest, missing a leg, bloody and dirtied, wings ripped from his very back. His blank stare made the young faerie freeze in place, the horrifying sight of her older brother now embedded in her very mind as her eyes turned away. Panic running through her veins, she sobbed like a child and her vision became blurry with tears, but her feet took her further –what if, maybe…maybe someone was alive still, maybe survivors…just maybe.

Her heart dropped when she entered the throne room, the body of her father laying on his side, blood pooling around him, the cloak he wore and the armor bloody, his crown fallen next to his head that seemed smashed. Sickness overtook her and she stumbled her way through the hallways, away from the sight of her father's corpse. Right now she was barely breathing as her feet moved slowly to where she knew her mother and sister would be in such crisis. With shaking hands, she pushed on the half opened door to her mother's chambers –she screamed as hard as her lungs could allow her, the body of her mother, the one that gave her life, scattered on the floor, stabbed through the stomach and next, her sister's, Fira, killed in the same manner.

She fell to the floor and hugged herself as sobs choked through her lips, reality slowly soaking in. After long while of weeping, with a bravado she did not know she had, the young princess stood on shaky legs and walked to her own chambers, gathering what she needed in a satchel that she hung over her shoulder, coins and jewelry, a cloak over her as to conceal her wings –then, with her heart stinging, she went back to the throne room and knelt at her father's feet, uttering a prayer and saying her goodbyes to him.

"I'm sorry, father, I am so…so sorry…I should have been here, I should have…" her voice broke once more as more tears came along and stained her face. Gingerly, she reached out and gathered the crown in her hands, the white gold glaring back at her –she was going to survive, she needed to, as much of a coward as she was, as much shame as she must have brought to her kin for not perishing in the flames with them, fighting alongside her siblings to protect the walls of the castle. Being the last of this line, the last to carry his legacy, she had to.

With glossy eyes, she raised up on her feet and inhaled deeply, her throat hurting from all the smoke and foul smell that surrounded her. Why had their allies abandoned them? There was no foot of elf set on this land, nothing. Weren't the ones in Rivendell and Greenwood supposed to come to their aid? Her sorrow turned into anger and rage and wrath as her heart raced –nobody came to her father's aid. There were times when his dining room had been filled with laughter and elves and dwarves, chants and promises made –but in the end, they did not even reach their hands out to save her kin from dying in such a degrading way.

King Oropher had abandoned them, along with prince Thranduil –she concluded bitterly as she walked down the stairs of the ruins that stood tall and proud once. The icy glare prodded around her surroundings before she knelt and placed her hand upon the earth that was painted with blood and ash. She closed her eyes and her wings fluttered before they outstretched up as she felt the very energy of the earth pulsating through her body like molten lava. Releasing a gasp, the young fae pulled her hand to her chest, the hopes of any surviving faerie now ravished as she stood up once more. The earth had spoken to her and she felt no life essence, nothing…only death and pain.

Frozen into place, the attention of the silver-haired girl was caught when she heard the elvish horns, blowing in the distance and announcing their arrival. She was not going to remain there and wait for them to see her –oh no, she was no fool. They came to claim what was left and she was free, she was not going to wait and wail and sob like a pathetic weakling. Bitterness ran through her like a virus as her legs sprung forward, dashing through the protection of the great trees that surrounded the palace. It was hard not to look behind and it was even harder to not notice how King Oropher descended from his elk and walked so confidently within the ruins of her home. Many soldier elves came after him and tried to find any survivors and when that bothersome task was out of the way, the corpses were buried and the treasures emptied.

One single thing caught her eye and that was the figure of the young prince Thranduil, trying to enter as well, insistently so, but being stopped by his father who shook his head at the boy's horror-stricken face. She left through the thick branches and wandered through the forest, refusing to remain any longer there –until sorrow finally caught up with her bravado and all was spilled as she crashed on the ground and wept after her loved ones.

How long until she stopped feeling? How long until she would feel empty? It was better than letting sorrow claim her so easily.

* * *

"Ada! Please, let me go in as well!"

"No, Thranduil…my men already surveyed the area and there are no survivors."

"But they did not find her body, did they?" he countered furiously, trying to push by his father, blue eyes shadowed with pain. "Her body was not found, ionneg, yes, but the chances of her being alive are very unlikely given this was done by orcs." The older male muttered, a hand on his son's shoulder as he stared wide-eyed and incredulously at him and then back at the bridge towards the destroyed palace.

Sensing his distress and sorrow, the elvenking's hard blue eyes softened ever so slightly "We need to go, Thranduil. If this was done by orcs then they must be many, for King Fafner was strong and his army well-prepared and if they are on the move then we need to alert the others and protect Greenwood." He tried to reason, his tone remaining strict as his son looked away with pained eyes.

Oropher was no fool. He knew of the feelings that bloomed between the youngest daughter of the faerie King and his own son and while he did not discourage it, he could not see his son at the side of her, just as he was denied to be by the side of Luel when they were just as young. It made sense to him now why his own father denied him the love he wore so openly for the mischievous faerie, their kind, while so much alike in appearance, did not match very well given the their prideful and greedy nature. It was a chance for Thranduil to move on and for him to find his son a worthy companion in marriage, as per tradition in the family.

Looking back at the patterns of smoke still raising lazily into the greying sky, the elven king bowed his head, telling his old friend, Fafner, goodbye for eternity and declaring his love for Luel one last time in his mind. Thranduil had already mounted and his expression turned distant, bitter, as he rode his horse forward, the elven soldiers following his example and leaving Oropher to a moment of silence at his hand's dismissal.

"I will avenge your death, mela en' coiamin. Mellonamin, I'narr en gothrim glinuva nuin I'anor."

* * *

 _Seven months before..._

Thranduil was finally satisfied that his father decided it was time for him to come along on his private affairs. It was his duty, after all, to learn and understand what he would have to do when he would take his rightful place on the throne. He trailed behind his father, on a white stallion, while the mighty king rode the great looking elk, a symbol of prosperity and strength but at the same time one of grace and beauty. The soldiers, either on foot or on horses, were close behind when they entered a strange but mythical looking forest. These region, he did not know of, so it was no surprise when the prince looked around in awe at the enormous trees and the colorful birds that decorated the vast forest. It looked so old but radiated life like he had never felt before –"Remember your manners, Thranduil." his father made sure to remark, not even turning to glance back at his son. At this, the prince's lips pressed together in a thin line as his eyebrows furrowed together in annoyance. Oropher did not need an answer to know how he irritated his son with the comment, but he couldn't afford introducing him to a king if he was going to behave immaturely or disrespectful, after all, he knew how King Fafner's personality and mood swings were and he wouldn't take risks.

When the forest cleared out, they came upon an enormous bridge made of pure white marble, carvings elegantly curling around it in patterns that resembled flowers as it guided them to the great ivory walls, decorated with vines and white lilies scattered about. There was only one thing that stood out and could be seen from the walls that protected what was behind it, and that was a very tall tower, beautifully carved and holding one big silver bell atop it. Thranduil did not notice he had stopped until the soldiers walked past him and after his father, making him urge his white stallion while his eyes devoured the new and outlandish place his father brought him to.

"These are the Ivory Halls of the Faerie King." the elven king suddenly spoke as they neared the walls that surrounded the region. The gates of pure silver with carvings as the bridge, opened and revealed to them an entire different world hidden behind –edelweiss flowers decorated the buildings inside and everything was either white or silver –no wonder they were called the Ivory Halls. The buildings were all so beautifully built that it reminded him of those he had seen in Rivendell. Bridges connected small regions to one another and hills together as houses were scattered around beautifully, trees like those he had seen in the forest, towering and shadowing parts of the areas, ponds and long streams of waterfalls and rivulets. In the middle, farther away from them, stood the palace, large steps laying before two great silver doors that opened as soon as they galloped inside. What was most amazing were the creatures that dwelt here, elves with wings –the prince thought at first, gawking as they passed the common folk by, their hair either raven black, chestnut brown or fair blonde –he noted. Their wings stood erect on their backs, or fluttered as their curious gazes followed them, making Thranduil watch in awe. The nimble difference were the pointier and much longer ears that piqued from their locks or the shape of their faces, much more prominent features and contoured bone structure, making them look fairer in comparison to the common elves.

His father stopped in front of the steps to the palace and effortlessly dismounted his elk, bowing at the four figures that gathered in front of the doors to the inside of the palace. Not paying very much attention, Thranduil followed his father's example and bowed when his father did, his gaze not faltering too high.

"My old friend!" the voice surprised Thranduil, it was so playful, so expressive and joyous at the prospect of his father visiting. He dared raise his eyes when the figure approached and he quietly analyzed the man, King Fafner as his father addressed him –he had long silver hair, tied in a loose knot and braided, dressed with a pale blue tunic as a silver cape draped over his shoulders. He looked much like his father in age, with the lightest blue eyes he had ever seen. His gaze went further to the other three figures that remained behind as the King descended and welcomed his father –a beautiful woman, with fair blonde hair that cascaded down her shoulders and to the back of her knees, stood there with a warm smile on her full pink lips, her eyes a grey-blue and her slender figure dressed with a simple pale blue dress. If it weren't for the silver tiara resting atop her head, he wouldn't have guessed she was the queen, but the King's daughter. Another man, young-looking, stood next to the queen, sporting the same fair blonde locks tied like the King's. with the same kind of blue tunic and sword at his hip. His eyes were as blue as the king's so he assumed he was the son of the two royalties that welcomed their arrival. Next, almost timidly, another woman, her hair the same blonde as the boy's, but with the same eyes as the queen's glanced towards him and gave a swift nod, her figure covered by a white dress exquisitely layered with silk and lace. Both the two younger ones wore tiaras almost similar to the queen's but slimmer, while the King held a more prominent one over his head, one decorated with a beautiful sapphire in the middle as the silver vines curled around his head.

"Come, my friend, I have prepared a feast! It has been a long time since you last visited, have you grown bored of my company already?" the King laughed heartedly as he glanced at Thranduil, for the first time since they arrived "Is this your boy, Oropher?" to which, his father turned and glanced at him, eyes already telling him to not forget his manners "Yes, this is my son, Prince Thranduil." –the king grinned and nodded in acknowledgment "I shall have the servants prepare another guest chamber! I am honored to meet you, young one." The faerie king spoke, gesturing with his hand to enter the palace, something they did without complaint.

Before the king himself entered the hallway that guided them to the dining room, he stopped in front of his wife "Where is she?" –a whisper that Thranduil caught easily "I don't know. I think she ran off again doing who knows what." the queen sighed tiredly. The king ended the short conversation with his wife by taking her hand in his and guiding her behind their quests to the table filled with all kinds of delicious cuisines and fruit.

"Welcome to my humble home, my friend. Please eat and drink to your heart's desire."

Thranduil chose the seat next to his father's which was at the right of the King. The queen sat on his left and the two siblings next to their mother's side. Council members and other small lords had joined them to the feast and it didn't take long for chatter to start and laughter to erupt while stories were told –and sometimes, he would catch his father's eyes wandering to the beautiful queen before lowering to the food and the wine.

Another thing he noticed, was how there was an empty seat next o the young faerie princess that smiled at him whenever she caught his eye. During it all, a soldier came to the king's side and whispered something in his ear, making some of the chatter fade when the expression of the man turned serious. He stood from his chair, excusing himself and left just outside the hall, his wife swiftly brushing her hand over his wrist as he passed almost furiously by the table and out the doors. The chatter started again until some moments later when the king returned, another figure walking behind him. He took his seat and his icy gaze sharply cut at the newly-added member –a silver-haired fae with eyes as icy as her father's, wearing a light frown upon her delicate features.

Truth be told, Thranduil has seen many beautiful elleth, especially now that he was coming of age and his body craved something more than just some company, but he had never seen one as fair as the creature standing a few feet away from him. When her eyes met his in a furious storm of emotions, his breath almost stopped, as if he was just struck by an arrow in his very chest. The girl sat in the empty seat and started poking around the food on her plate, her sister leaning in to whisper something in her ear, making her gaze raise up to the now flustered Thranduil. The sister giggled, while the other smiled almost knowingly, making Thranduil extremely uncomfortable at that very moment. His father, noticing the new adding, turned to Fafner "Your youngest certainly grew up since the last time I have visited." to which, the king looked towards her and within the cover of the loud chatter and laughs muttered tiredly "If only she'd have grown in mind as well. She is truly a handful, Oropher, I tell you."

The cutting glare the young girl sent to her father gave away the fact that she heard that statement as clear as Thranduil had. The brother, carefully assessing the situation, turned to the silver-haired sister, over the sister that stood between them and placed meat on her plate, making the girl raise her eyebrow at him. "You need energy, Shea. Leaves don't build strength." the young man spoke, giving his sister a light smile in order to ease the tension. So Shea was her name –now that he thought about it, he was not introduced to the siblings –something the King himself noticed as well.

"Ah! I did not introduce my children, how forgetful I have become." the faerie laughed wholeheartedly, turning his gaze to Thranduil "Age must have gotten to me. My apologies, young one."

He leaned to his left, where his wife smiled adoringly at him "My love, you are simply distraught." she tried softly, their hands joining as he, as well, smiled at her with the same affection that she mirrored.

"Prince Thranduil, this is my son, Prince Rani –" the young prince only having acknowledged the hand his father gestured at him, smiled and nodded in Thranduil's direction "—my oldest daughter, Princess Fira—" he continued, the blonde one next to the boy nodding with a smile as well "—and my youngest daughter, Shea." he finished, giving the younger one a warning glance, which she took notice of as she stuck her fork into the meat on her plate with irritation, but then she locked eyes with Thranduil and gave him a dismissive nod, her lips in a pout that made him wonder just how soft they were and if they felt as good as they looked. His father nudged him discreetly, alerting him of having gone away in thoughts so deep that he did not notice staring at the young daughter of their host.

Nodding curtly, his attention remained on his plate for the rest of the evening. However, the playful faerie with the eyes of glass smiled devilishly to herself, already having other plans for the prince that was brought within the palace.

* * *

As night fell and the sky darkened, the prince found himself mesmerized by the view he had from his chambers, a sight overlooking the gardens behind the palace, with a pond so beautifully decorated and with a small settlement that looked like a bed near it –it was after a few moments that a figure approached the pond underneath his balcony –and it was none other than the faerie princess that stole his breath away. She was dressed in a simple, flowing silk dress that draped elegantly over her slender body, her hair left down, reaching just underneath her bottom –bottom that he noticed almost too fast as the dress contoured the shapes she held as the breeze blew lightly in the warm air.

As if hypnotized, the elf prince continued to stare, his eyes set dead on her figure as she glanced up at him, freezing him in place. What now? To his surprise, she smiled up at him and her transparent wings fluttered and then lowered over her back. He didn't react in any way, he simply tried to remain there, looking serious and supposedly, unaffected by her presence –if only she knew how his heart slammed in his chest, unlike anything he had felt before.

He glanced away for a moment, a sound outside his door gaining his attention, but when he turned back, he let out a sharp exhale of breath when he came face to face with the mischievous little faerie. She was sitting there, on the rail of the balcony, grinning at him bemusedly as he stumbled back a few steps.

"Do I look that awful?" she chirped, her voice like a melody to his ears. "No." he replied simply, not knowing what else to say. Why was he being so unsocial to her? Back in Greenwood he would have been the one to spark up conversations with any beautiful elleth that he gazed upon.

"Thranduil, was it?" she began again, hopping off the rail and taking a step closer to him –he reciprocated with a step back, unsure of her intentions. "What are you doing?" he masked the helplessness in his voice with a sour tone "I was only curious." –another step towards him and another step back from him –"Curious about what exactly?"

"You." she replied simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. This time he kept his composure when she took a step at him again, coming close enough for him to see her face from up close. She seemed to think the same as her eyes trailed over his face, studying his features as if he were the most fascinating thing she has seen in a while. "Me?" –he winched at his own question, having sounded stupid, to which she smiled "Of course. I like beautiful things. You are beautiful" –and it was so bold that it took him aback, making his eyebrows furrow together "What?" –she batted her eyelashes innocently "Do not think about it too much, Thranduil." Her tone suddenly changed to a much more sultry one as one of her hands pressed on his chest.

"I wish to have you. May I?" –again, the boldness had him speechless as the temperature in his body rose "Have me?" –was it even proper for her to say these things? What did she mean by –her hand trailed lower down his tunic and his breath hitched when it stopped at the leather of his pants. "I desire you."

"…Stop this." He managed to mutter under his breath, his hand pushing her away gently by her shoulders. This was clearly improper. "No. You and I…our paths are intertwined and I know that you desire me too. I want you to be the first man to touch me and make me a woman. It must be you." she whispered her reasoning, making him feel incredibly reckless as he gazed down at her face and the way her hair cascaded down the skin her dress revealed, fair and flawless. She suddenly leaned in and hovered near his ear "Just like the stars and the moon have whispered. Just like in my dream." that husky whisper made him almost lose it completely, but she was there to catch him with her plump lips and her slender arms that embraced him around the neck, with her intoxicating scent that made him think of lilies and vanilla.

"Your…dream?" he asked in a whisper after her lips left his, a light blush spreading on the adolescent's cheeks as her chest pressed to his. "Yes. I have dreamed of you." –was it even possible? Was it just a game she was playing? Because right now he didn't know what to believe while she trailed those fingers over the skin of his neck "Is this not how your kind shows affection? By being intimate? I have read in my books…" she trailed off as his ceruleans caught hers and for a second she was left breathless, just like him.

It was just like in her dream. His face, his eyes, the way he looked at her –she had seen him in her dreams, but now he was as real as her wings, he was looking at her and it was not just a dream. She was almost paralyzed when her sister whispered that her so-called soul mate was sitting at the table with them and made it obvious that he was watching her as much as she was secretly watching him. As soon as her eyes fell on him, she knew, but she kept her composure through the feast because it would have been foolish to act upon her petty dreams. Now that she was gazing directly into his eyes, she knew exactly what he was –her heart raced and her stomach tightened, she felt dizzy and adventurous, she felt as if her legs would give out from underneath her. Lips parted lightly, they stood there like two fools, simply staring at each other while she held herself to him.

It felt like eternity, until he leaned in slowly and captured her lips, understanding her to a level that it seemed almost unearthly. Her eyelashes fluttered closed and she melted completely into his kiss –he was not as bold as her and she probably came on much too forcefully, but now it did not matter for they molded into each other's embrace as if tomorrow they were not going to be alive anymore.

Surreal and passionate it was; his strong hold of her, having her melt into his kisses as they cascaded down her jaw and her chin, his embrace so tight as if he wanted her to become part of him while their bodies came together. He surrendered to her and she to him the whole night, little moans and crumpled sheets underneath her fingers, as they gave in to their desires for one another. When the first rays of sun bathed the kingdom, she laid into his bed, a sleepy smile on her face while he kissed the side of her head, over the temple, as he held her to his chest in a haze.

"Thranduil, I must part with you. If my maid does not find me in my chambers, she will stir trouble." the princess mused with a chuckle as she sat up, sore from the night they had spent together. "Must you?" he asked, catching her hand within his and kissing her knuckles affectionately, making her smile widen on her lovely face. "I will see you at breakfast, my prince." she teased as she stood and pulled her dress off the floor of his chambers. Thranduil simply remained in the bed, his lower half hidden underneath the blanket, his eyes set on the faerie as she gingerly draped the dress over her body, hiding every part of the flesh he had admired until sunrise.

"What now?" his question left his lips before he comprehended what it meant. Her eyes turned to him in wonder, the soft glow of the sun that rose, making her skin look softer than it was already. "I believe we will keep this a secret. I don't believe you wish to face my father about it, do you?" she smiled, her wings outstretching "…No, I don't believe I wish to do that. I would like to leave with my head upon my shoulders." he smirked at her, sitting up on his bed. It made her laugh wholeheartedly and left him in awe as she grinned, her eyes lightning up as she did so –what a breathtaking sight.

"Shea."

Her eyes locked on his once more, making his heart leap. "Yes, Thranduil?"

"I wish to be with you." he muttered insanely, not believing those words left his mouth as the faerie stared at him bewildered. "Not only like this. I wish you to be mine…soul and body." he added, trailing off, sensing her intense stare as she stood there, unmoving from the middle of the room.

Suddenly, she smiled boldly and walked up to him. Her hand caught his and she intertwined her fingers with his –her eyes warm and kind, loving and soft. "I believe fate has plans for us, Thranduil. I am not sure if good or bad, but my dreams have been filled with you and if that is not a sign for something, then I do not know what is. Let us live these moments we have together. I have given myself to you, and I will continue to do so, my soul, my energy, my body…" –she kissed the back of his hand and placed it upon her cheek. If this was love at first sight, he did not want it to be finished, as he gazed upon her, he swore he had never seen a sight like her, or felt anything like what he felt with her. It was as if he knew that she was the one he was going to give his life to, that she was going to be the one he would wake up to forever, that she was going to be the one to soothe and understand him when the world did not. She was his eternity, he knew it deep into his very soul –a connection so strong, he was still in a daze.

* * *

After departing from the faerie kingdom, Thranduil started sending his lover, letters and small attentions, making even his father knowledgeable of the fact that his son was smitten with one of the King Fafner's daughters. He could not blame him, though, he too was smitten with one a long time ago. Many more visits continued to happen after that, sometimes without the company of his father, only to give his beloved a secret embrace in the cover of the rose garden or steal kisses from her as they rode through the poppy fields and then show her how much he loved her with each day that passed, in the comforts of her bed, the stars and the moon their only witness.

Until that fateful day. Until she was taken from him by the army of orcs that took down her entire kin, and they were wiped out of existence by those foul creatures, as if they didn't even exist and the only reminders of their culture remaining the ruins of their homes, tall walls that had been corroded by time and weather.

For many years he grieved and mourned, for many years he held wrath as his sharpest weapon while he slayed orcs at the side of his father in the Battle of Dagorlad, where his father fell and he had to take the reins and return as not the heir and prince, but the King. The boy turned into a man and that man's eyes turned hard and cold as the sorrows gathered and the responsibility weighted upon his shoulders the same as the crown he wore upon his head.

The past became but a ghost and so did the haunting smile of his first love, buried deep into his heart as he married, as he became a father and cared for his son….and as his wife perished and his heart wept more. There was a time when he believed his very soul was going to be torn apart piece by piece, so great was his pain. However, he remained unmoved, he remained strong and solemn, but his eyes only became duller with time, and his decisions more heartless, until he returned from the Battle of the Five Armies…

 _To be continued._

* * *

 _Thranduil in this prologue is 50 years old, so you can imagine he was young then..._  
 _it is also why he is slightly ooc...I can imagine he was not as serious or hardened by war then_  
 _I kind of imagined him being more...carefree?_  
 _and Oropher is still alive then yay!_

 _mela en' coiamin = love of my life_  
 _ada = father_  
 _ionneg = son/my son_

 _Mellonamin, I'narr en gothrim glinuva nuin I'anor. = my friend, t_ _he bones of our foes will gleam under the sun._


	2. Chapter 2

_sooooooo...uh. follow, review, favorite? yes? ; D; /_

* * *

Scars are meant to tell stories, are they not? So why did the scars on her back make her hide her eyes in shame and anger, why did the scars on her heart make her feel ashamed of her choices? Perhaps her scars were not meant to hide behind tales told with pride, as moments that she survived throughout her life, but moments she wished she would have died in, if only to bury the hatred and wrath that burned painfully in her veins.

The wet cloth was shoved carelessly over her once flawless milky skin, that was now anything but, the scars on her back stinging with the remainder that those used to be her wings. Myths said that her wings would grow back, but after years of waiting, she assumed those were just that; myths. Her slender fingers gripped the wet cloth again and she let the water string over her flesh, over small scars about her shoulders and sides, over her noticeable ribs underneath her breasts and her prominent collarbone. Food was scarce in her situation –who knew she would ever end up like this? From a princess to a petty thief, playing her flute in order to get enough money to buy bread or con people, being called a she-elf by anyone who saw her –until she started wearing the cape over her head to hide her face and ears. She despised the comparisons greatly; she despised the elves greatly.

For now, she was going to enjoy her bath in the Forest River after a long and tiresome journey from Rohan. Passing through the Mirkwood forest was supposed to be harder, so she indulged in a little swim to freshen up and eat some before getting back on her way. She heard rumors of Mirkwood and the creatures lurking within the forest, but she was not afraid, she had her brother's sword at her side and an already hardened heart. Sighing contently, she lowered herself into the water, going further until her hair soaked n completely, before emerging from under it with a deep breath. Her worst fear was running into elves while she went on her way, and while the chances were slim, she couldn't help the pounding of her heart. The Battle of the Five armies, as many carried the word, was graced by the presence of the elven king Thranduil himself –only the mention of his name made her skin crawl.

"King." she spat mockingly, her eyes glaring blankly at the reflection in the water, her hand slamming upon it to make it vanish. The last thing she wanted was to run into those of his kin. He had to remain sure that she was dead, because he surely was for her. After untangling her hair that grew raspy and ugly as time passed and giving it no care for she had none to spare, Shea, the crownless princess, emerged from the cold waters without even a flinch. Her body was accommodated with cold and hot altogether, rarely did anything bother her anymore. She grew into a beautiful woman, one would notice, a bit taller, slender, the shadows of her once royal upbringing clinging to her like a parasite. Her hair grew longer, like her mother's, in small and elegant waves that remained unkempt and tangly due to no time or ways of keeping it as nice as it used to be. If only she could chop it with her sword, but she knew she couldn't…it was a part of her old self. Chopping it off would mean killing the last bit of herself that she had.

Her hands grabbed around it and twisted it until it was tied all up into a bum, then she pulled her clothing on. A simple ripped black tunic, and brown baggy pants that hid any shapes she might have, then the boots, a bit big for her, but good enough to walk in. Her cape came last and then her satchel, making sure she pulled the hood up and over her head and face –nobody needed to see her without it.

As she started walking through the dense forest, from the river's side to where she left her horse, she could have sworn she heard a howl –making her eyes snap up and towards the direction in which she heard it. No matter, it was much too far to reach her before she took off. Effortlessly, she mounted the brown mare as soon as she came upon the clearing and started back on the path she had strayed from earlier, one that was hopefully not plagued by elves –after all, given the rumors, she wouldn't be surprised if she met with the army that helped defeat the orcs at Erebor. A light frown took over her features and for a second she faltered, making the mare stop –that was foolish, they would have probably reached the Elven King's Halls by now –yet, it would be safer if she took another path.

Just as she was about to pull her mare towards a different direction, those forsaken horns were heard in the distance. Heart slamming into her chest, the fae's head turned towards said direction, spotting the long lines of soldiers through the forestry, marching towards Mirkwood.

"Curse my luck." she spat as she urged her mare towards a different direction. She knew how this would go, scouts would be sent forward to make sure the path was cleared before they entered and she was sure she didn't want to be caught. Kicking the horse in the side, she sprung forward, deep into the dark forest onto a path she did not know and as fearless as she was, a little sting within her stomach made her reconsider her decision for a second. However, between seeing elves or meeting with deadly creatures, she chose the latter.

...

Thranduil's eyes bored blankly in front of him, the forest of Mirkwood finally revealing itself in front of them, which meant he was soon to be in the comfort of his chambers. He lost many men in the battle, he even lost his battle elk, a prized possession, which made him very displeased, especially now with the departure of his only son, Legolas. Stopping just before the great trees at the entrance, he glanced towards several soldiers and nodded his head towards the path, silently ordering them to act as scouts and make the road safer –Tauriel was quick to join as well, her tear-stained face not yet dry from the events that occurred. The statue of his late wife stood cold and tall.

"Tauriel." his voice stopped her in her tracks, but she refused to look up "Let the others attend to this." he added, looking away from the elleth and towards the greying skies. "I wish to go as well. It will clear my mind." she muttered loud enough for him to hear. Pondering it for a few seconds, he finally nodded with a sigh –if she wished to do so and it was in her benefit, then so be it. Without even waiting a second more, the red-haired elleth sprung forward on her horse, the path of elves revealing itself to her, eyes darting furiously from side to side as six others joined her.

The rumbling from above turned into rain and it started to pour over the elves –yet they welcomed the soothing effect, even Thranduil, closing his eyes and reveling in its caress. Not long after, the scouts returned, having cleared the path for the King. Nodding, he dismissed them and urged his horse forward into the forest, his features solemn and his eyes cold but observing, careful to keep his guard up as they made their way to the Woodland Kingdom.

Suddenly, his heart leaped and he exhaled gravely at the sudden reaction –his eyes darted around almost dumbfounded –he hadn't felt this stirring in a long time, his stomach tightening in unfamiliar ways and blood rushing through him hotly as he tried to appear unaffected while he led his army within the forest.

...

She rushed through brush and trees, the wind in her ears as her breathing heaved. It started raining and her clothes were soaked, her hair stuck to her face as she kicked the mare again, a dire wolf hot on their trail –bless her bad luck. Spatting curses under her breath as she glanced back, the faerie was about to sigh with relief that she might have lost the creature, until it charged from her side, catching her off-guard and plunging its claws in the stomach of the mare, missing her own leg by little and knocking her off the horse, sending her body tumbling down on the ground with a painful crash that had her head dizzy.

Gasping for air, she stumbled back on her feet while the dire wolf bit into her mare and tried to run through the slippery mud, grabbing at whatever she could to get far away from the sight. If there was one then that meant more were to come, these creatures were hunting in packs. Was this how she was supposed to die then? Live through obstacles that would kill many, but end up being bones that wolves would chew on? Surely, fate was cruel. The only thing she could think of doing was to climb up a tree –as if that was going to save her, but she was still safer there than on the ground. Breathing heavily, she clutched on the bark of the tree and pushed herself to climb up the trunk. The wolf, taking notice of her, rushed forward and growled threateningly as it tried to reach her, making her gasp and try to climb faster. Unfortunately, in her haste, one of her legs slipped trough and the creature slashed at it mercilessly, having caught it with its claws as it tried to crawl after her. That was when she cried in pain, but pulled her leg forward, using the other to kick at the wolf and climb further.

"I am not going to die like this!" she screamed as she settled on a higher branch, panting as the rain poured over her and made it impossible to even see. She couldn't feel the pain now, due to the adrenaline surely, but she knew there was ripped flesh from her bone and she had no means of getting out of the forest now, not with a dead mare and a useless leg. Her eyes clouded over as soon as she saw more of the wolves gathering at the base of the tree, making her heart pound with fear and frustration at the prospect that she might indeed meet her end.

...

The elven king was still urgently making his way through the dense forest, careful to the tricky ground underneath the hooves of the horse, Tauriel on his right as they rode in silence. "Have you laid eyes upon anything noteworthy?" he suddenly asked his Captain, making her gaze snap in his direction him "No, my lord." she replied simply. No matter how absolute her answer was, he could not rid himself of the feeling that gripped at heart, making him slightly unnerved, something unlikely to happen to him. "Are you certain?"

"Yes. Is there something wrong, Heruamin?"

"No." he concluded curtly, deciding that maybe it was all just a feeling and while he wasn't one to simply shrug off his instincts, he couldn't deny the fact that maybe the battle had exhausted him in such a manner that he needed rest desperately, for his good health. It was then that he heard the distant cry and his head turned in the direction it came from. As he stopped, everyone followed his example, including Tauriel, with a light frown on her face as she glanced in the same direction. It wasn't too close, but it was close enough to raise questions in the king's mind. His cerulean gaze turned to Tauriel, silently demanding what she knew he would say. "Take six soldiers to accompany you and see to that. I shall resume my ride to the kingdom. Report to me when you make your return."

The female nodded and glanced at the six elven soldiers behind her, motioning with her head to be followed, which they did without so much as a flinch. She left the horses within a clearing by the path and went on foot, given the weather and the unknown circumstances, she did not know what to expect, so the rule was to be light on her feet and unburdened, same for the elves that followed her in her king's order.

They moved easily and swiftly between trees and branches, stopping only to listen to the silence of the forest and after they picked on the commotion again, they started tracking it down again, until they finally reached the source's area. Tauriel pulled her swords from her back and rushed into the clearing, her eyes darting over a woman clinging onto a branch of a tall tree while the dire wolves howled and growled, waiting for her to fall and rip her apart. The first thing that they had to do was to get rid of the wolves and then see what was with the woman –flicking her gaze to the six other elves, she gave them instructions with the swift movements of her fingers, before they charged at the beasts. The elleth jumped directly onto one of them, shoving her swords through its skull and killing it instantly. The other six guards split into two groups of three and each took down a wolf in the same manner as her. They regrouped and the elves behind her loaded their bows with arrows and shot at the running wolves that were trying to retreat at the impending threat.

Tauriel raised her hand, making the elves stop, before her eyes shot up at the woman, still holding onto the branch she was on. The elleth wasn't sure if she was still alive or simply passed out due to the wound she had on her leg, but she was determined to find out. There had been enough death and she would have none of it any longer.

"Are you alright?" she yelled, loud enough for the woman to hear her, but there was no response, which made her frown. She must have passed out then? With vigor, she walked up to the tree and after analyzing a way to climb it up safely, she did just that, in order to reach the woman and check if she was alive. She had lost someone she loved today, she had seen her own kin slayed at the hands of the orcs, she could not even take one more death.

As soon as she got up on the branch the woman was on, she noticed her wound, her flesh ripped open and bleeding from the knee down. Flinching momentarily, she placed a hand on her and shook, but no response. Then, she placed her palm in front of the woman's face and felt her breath, much to her relief.

She needed to get her down from the tree. Glancing down at the six elven men waiting for her orders, she held herself leaned back "Help me get her down! She needs the healer or she's going to die!" –no soon did she speak, that two of them were already climbing to help. After some struggling, they eventually made it down with the woman, trying to be careful, especially with the injury. Tauriel ripped some of the girl's cloak and wrapped it around, hoping it would stop the bleeding somehow. She was hauled over one of the men's back and it was then that the cover of the hood fell over her shoulders and her face was revealed. Tauriel was momentarily stunned; she was an elleth! A sindarin elleth nonetheless, by the looks of her fair hair color. She had never seen an elleth so delicate-looking and small of height –usually elves were tall and slender, but somehow, something seemed different about her. Perhaps she was a halfling? Frowning lightly, she decided to waste no more time and gave the order to return, the girl on one of the soldier's back, carried carefully by the man.

...

"My king."

"Tauriel, speak." the tired elven king spoke as he leaned back in his throne, closing his eyes. He was greatly awaiting for the night to finally rest. The council member that had been talking to him before Tauriel marched in, sat silently next to the throne.

"Dire wolves. They were attacking an elleth."

"An elleth?" he asked, opening his eyes with short-lived intrigue. "Yes. She has fair hair, I assumed she was of sindarin-"

"Is she alive?" he interrupted, his eyes sharp as he placed one leg over the other and a hand to his temple, seemingly bored by this topic already. "She is."

"Bring her here. She may be a messenger from Rivendell." he sighed dismissively. "I can't. She was badly wounded and unconscious." The elleth muttered cuttingly, her eyes not faltering from his face.

"Then do not bore me with useless conversation, Tauriel. Bring her once she awakens." –the king was not in a very good mood, and while she understood why, Tauriel couldn't help the snarky comment that formed in her mind before she left for the healing room once more.

...

The girl was laid in a bed, a healer tending to her leg, the process slow due to the depth of it. As the redhead entered, the healer nodded curtly and resumed her duty, letting Tauriel watch.

"How is she?"

"Weak, Arwen en amin."

"When will she wake up?"

"I am not sure. She lost too much blood to make a fast recovery. Mankoi?"

"The king wants to see her when she does. He believes she may be a messenger, from Rivendell," the elleth muttered, sitting down on a chair by the bed. Her eyes couldn't stop analyzing the woman, curious about her origins. Now that she looked carefully, her ears were slightly pointier and longer and her hair, a shade of silver rather than the fair blonde she has seen on Legolas or Thranduil. Were there elves with silver hair?

Suddenly, the woman started stirring, her eyes only half-opened as she moaned in pain and struggled, making Tauriel shoot up from the chair to keep her down to the bed. "No! No…please! No…" her pleading was barely just a whisper, but from the tears clouding her eyes, she knew that the pain must have been what woke her up so startled.

"Yee! Ed' i'ear ar' elenea! Tampa!" the healer yelled, as she tried to keep her steady so she could heal her properly. "I know it hurts, but this is for your own good!" she added, putting pressure on the herbs over the wound, making the silver-haired fae choke out a scream, before her body stilled and her eyes rolled back, falling into unconsciousness once more.

"It must have hurt a lot." Tauriel mumbled, her eyes still on the injured's face. The healer only sighed tiredly as she let go of the girl's leg and backed away from the bed to get some bandages and wrap up the wound. "Yes, it must have. She struggled like a worm." the woman shook her head as she returned and started bandaging the leg.

"I will give her a tonic for some peaceful sleep. She will probably awaken again late in the morning, until then, it will be silent."

Tauriel nodded and stepped back from the bed as well. "I shall come tomorrow then." with a court nod, the Captain left the healing chambers and went to retire to her room, in hopes of sleep.

It was a pity that the haunting image of Kili's face had her break down in tears as soon as her door was closed. She could manage a strong façade, but when she was alone, how could she? The elleth succumbed to her sorrow. No amounts of swords could make her hurt as bad as this moment of happiness being ripped from her did.

...

Thranduil retired to his chambers much later, after long discussions with his council and paying respects to the blood spilled on the battlefield. He sat down on his bed, leaning over and placing his head in his hands with a sigh, the locks of blonde falling gracefully over his shoulders like a curtain. After some moments of silence, he swiftly grasped his crown between his fingers and pulled it from his head and in front of his eyes, gazing almost bitterly at it.

His only son had left, and he knew that he was angry with him. If only he knew the weight he carried on his shoulders as a king; but how could he? It wasn't as if he wished that upon him and at the same time, he would give anything to be as young as him and as carefree, not bothered by consequences or responsibilities. A ghost of a smile pressed on his lips, his eyes parting from the crown –her smile was haunting him once more as soon as his mind wandered to his younger self. Then the smile faltered and faded. The crown was placed on the table as he stood up and went to pour himself wine in the glass resting near the bottle on the lectern. With a grave sigh, he placed it to his lips and took a sip; it was futile to lose himself into the past.

"Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'"

* * *

 _Heruamin = my lord_

 _Arwen en amin = my lady_

 _mankoi = why?_

 _Yee! Ed' i'ear ar' elenea! Tampa! = eek! by the sea and stars! stop!_

 _Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'= My heart shall weep until it sees thee again_


	3. Chapter 3

**an update is in order I would say~**

 **thank you, limegreenarcher for the wonderful review! I'm glad you liked it so much and I hope you'll stick around for more o Do /**

 **here's hoping I don't disappoint!**

 **review, message, follow and favorite! as long as there's interest, I'll always update!**

* * *

 _•••_

 _"The elven prince has taken an interest in you." Fira spoke with a knowing smile, one that teased her younger sister through the reflection in the mirror. The other fae, closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the wooden brush stroking through her silver locks –before her sister yanked on a strand, making Shea scowl and open her eyes._

 _"What was that for?" she asked accusingly, making the older fae smirk "That was for not paying attention."_

 _"I just chose not to dignify that with a response." Shea muttered in an irritated tone, her gaze falling over her hands as she played absentmindedly with the ring on her finger. Fira only shook her head "I do not know what he sees in you. You are incredibly and ridiculously immature and foul-mouthed." –somehow that made the silverette glare up at the blonde in a very unsettling way. "Are you perhaps…jealous?" –the sickly sweet tone that she used was merely a cover for the venom that dripped from her lips, something her sister caught wind of fast._

 _"Why would I? I have my own—"_

 _"Lover? Fira, we both know how you fancied Elrond, the elf from Rivendell—and how furious father was when he found you oogling at him so distastefully, I am so glad that he was sparred the headache that is your incessant clinging," –it was known that Shea's tongue was sharp and it was also known how she was always aware of everything that was happening around her, even if she presented herself as oblivious and uninterested in most things. It was no wonder that their father was training her brain more than her muscles or duties as a future wife. Fira was envious of her, she wished she would be seen as more than the one who would bear children and nothing more –her brother was heir to the throne and her little sister was one of the most brilliant people that she met and she was trained to become a council member and an adviser to her brother one day –to the future king. Then there was Fira, the absolutely ordinary one of the three, not that smart and not very good with the weapons either, just bland._

 _She stopped brushing her sister's white-silvery hair and let it fall from her fingers. "Don't worry, Shea…I won't tell father about your little affair. Though, do you really believe that he hasn't taken notice yet?" the smile that curled on her lips made her believe it was a victory in wits, but when her sister's glass-like eyes locked on hers, the smile faded –" I hope he did. I am not like you, Fira, I get what I want and I fight for what I want. I don't lack courage or intelligence. I do not cower away or follow like an obedient little imbecile with no ambition whatsoever, but to be pleasing to the eye." –the fae spoke gingerly, a cunning grin on her rosy lips._

 _"Father was right to envision you as a council member. You are manipulative and rotten, like a snake, you will fit right with them." Fira finally uttered, placing the brush on her sister's vanity. "It is called ambition, big sister. Why must you get so dramatic after you have challenged me?" the girl mused, eyes set on her like a predator._

 _"You believe I challenged you? I merely stated the fact that the elven prince fancies you. Was it so hard to take it as such? Why must you be so defensive about everything? I am your sister, not an enemy, not a diplomat who you have to attack with words and question." the blonde was flustered and angry, having to deal with her sister's stubbornness was the worst thing. The silverette looked away guiltily –it was becoming her nature to behave like this all the time, her father had taught her to always question other people's ulterior motives and real intentions, always take everything with a grain of salt, always outwit them in every field and however you could, even if you had to play dirty and use underhanded strategies. It had been repeated to her so many times that she did not realize how she was attacking Fira sometimes, even Rani. Before she could apologize, her older sister was gone and she was left with a sour taste in her mouth._

* * *

"Has she awakened yet?" the voice of Tauriel, echoed through the room as the healer mingled about with some bottles with substances. "Not yet, my lady. She is still into a deep slumber." The older elleth stated, continuing with arranging the bottles on the shelves.

Tauriel walked up to the bed and looked down at her, the unknown elleth sleeping profoundly –at least she didn't feel pain any longer. She had been changed into a plain cotton gown and cleaned up by the elleth that did the healing.

"Did you find any message on her?" the redhead suddenly asked, thinking maybe she carried her message with her. "No, my lady, I did not find anything in her clothes. Though, I wonder, what kind of elf would even dress in such worn-out clothing?" the healer shook her head "But I did find faint scars on her body."

Tauriel's eyebrows furrowed together at that. She looked too nimble, too small and slender to even be able to hold a sword or any weapon for that matter, she did not look like a warrior, so where did the scars come from then? This woman was truly a contradiction.

"Where are her belongings?"

"Over there; I wanted to throw them away." The healer spoke, pointing to a corner of the room, where the muddy and ripped clothes sat in a hump. Tauriel wasted no time and went to rummage through the pockets and through everything she could get her hands on, until her fingers brushed against something hard and metallic from within a hidden pocket of her pants. Pulling as hard as she could, she ripped the material open and the object dangled on the floor –a pendant. It was extremely beautiful, made of white gold, a blue sapphire glaring back at her. Was this woman a thief? She must have stolen this from somewhere.

Tauriel stared puzzled at the piece of jewelry, pondering on what she should do, until a soldier came into the room and broke her away from her thoughts. "Nikerym, King Thranduil requested that you bring the messenger." –the male nodded his head and waited patiently as the redhead glanced at the bed, where the woman slept and then back at him with mild annoyance. "I will come with you." she muttered, letting the pendant fall over the pile of clothes and walking over to the guard. Bowing his head, the man walked with her to the king's throne room.

...

"Tauriel, manke naa re?" from his voice, she gathered he was extremely displeased. He sat atop his throne, the cape draping over the seat as his cold eyes looked down upon her with a tense and controlled irritation kind of expression that made her cringe. "She has not awakened yet, Heruamin," she spoke as clear as she could. Whatever the woman was, she was of their kind and she needed rest after who knows what she has been through, especially with that ugly injury.

His eyes narrowed noticeably and his annoyance was bubbling to the surface "I might as well ride to Rivendell myself and ask for the message!" his voice thundered as he stood in a furious storm of red cape and blonde tresses.

"Heruamin—"

"Dina!" –she flinched at his harsh tone when he interrupted her. "Lead me to this engwarer. I will awaken her myself if I have to!" he was definitely furious and impatient today, which meant, denying him this would turn rather bad, so the elleth simply nodded as the elven king descended down the stairs to his throne, a frown upon his features as he passed her.

* * *

As soon as Tauriel left, the healer started looking at the wound again, bandaging it anew as she hummed, her brown locks brushing down her shoulders every time she leaned to inspect the treads as she dressed the flesh. Suddenly, the leg jerked and her eyes immediately snapped to the woman's face stirring awake. With a gasp, she sat up, making the elleth step away startled "Av-'osto!" –but the woman was breathing heavily, her icy blue eyes darting around the room frantically until she saw the healer and she frowned deeply.

"You're an elf," and as if that word alone burnt her, she twisted her body to jump from the bed, careless and oblivious to the wound, the elleth trying to reach her. "Please return to the bed! You are still—"

"Stay away from me!" the woman screamed, eyes catching sight of a knife, near some herbs on the table by the bed. Light on her feet, she lunged for it at the same time the elleth did, having noticed where the silverette's eyes drifted –but she was faster and as soon as her hand gripped the handle, she slashed the healer's arm, then held the point of it at her throat threateningly.

"Do not touch me!" her eyes were ablaze as she warned, so the healer slowly backed away to a corner. Wasting no time, the fae rushed out the door and paused in the middle of the hallway, trying to determine quickly which way to go, before taking her right in hopes that it would lead her out of here.

As soon as she opened her eyes and saw the elf, she knew where she was and she was not planning on remaining in a place that crawled with them. Her heart slammed against her ribcage and her feet felt numb, not even the fact that she was barefooted registered in her mind. She slowed down at a corner and peeked just enough to catch sight of any guards –when she saw none, she darted through the hallway as stealthily as she could.

It was obvious that the elleth she attacked was going to report her escape and more elves were on their way to get her, especially after what she did, but she was not giving up the chance she had at getting out. Heavy footsteps were heard and she knew from that moment that guards were sent after her, something that made her face contort into a scowl –how did they even find her? What were the chances of her being found by Thranduil's elves? Fate was a cruel mistress, she decided then, and her dreams from when she was a young maiden spoke clearer now than they ever did. She was meant to go through this, her path was intertwined with his no matter how many times she remained in the shadows and ran away from her past and memories; perhaps this was her curse and she wholeheartedly embraced it like a fool back then. For now, all she wanted was to run away from the son of the one that took the treasures of her people, that gave no aid when it was needed and let her kin burn alive.

Closing her eyes, she evened her breath and hid under a staircase, letting the darkness mask her presence and mold itself to her body until she came up with a plan.

* * *

As the king walked towards the healing chambers with Tauriel, in tense silence, a guard came to them running "My lord, the healer was injured by the woman that was brought in here. She ran away –" but the king made his way past the elf with rage clear upon his face. Tauriel's eyes widened when she heard this and rushed to catch up with Thranduil as he marched with purpose and fury.

As soon as they entered the room where the woman was kept, the healer bowed her head, while another was dressing her wound, the pale skin painted with red. Thranduil was furious and Tauriel could not believe that the girl did that, she looked quite harmless if she said so herself. The fact that she had the strength to not only get off the bed, but the energy to try and slay an elleth was remarkable.

"My lord, she ran away! She may be dangerous!" the woman spoke as calmly as she could, making the king narrow his eyes. "Catch that ungrateful wretched creature!" his voice commanded, spilling wrath in his wake as he made to walk out of the room, until something caught his attention. Something that shone and twinkled from a corner and made him pause, casting a glance to the little thing that sat upon a hump of dirty clothing, so sublimely out of place. Tauriel, already having given the order for the girl to be seized, noticed his gaze and walked over to the clothes that belonged to the woman.

"These were her clothes, my lord. I found this pendant hidden well within—" she took the pendant from the pile and held it up, but before she could utter any more words, he snatched it from her hand and brought it up to his eyes, staring at it incredulously, his lips parted slightly, as if he was trying to make sense of something.

 _Her beautiful white locks spread about wildly as she ran, her smile sweetly upon her lips whenever she glanced back at him. She loved playing these games with him, hiding, running, until he caught her, it made him desire her more whenever she challenged him like this, either escaping from his kiss or slithering from his embrace, then beckoning him to her in the most alluring way –but he was always trapped within her spell, within her eyes and he chased her restlessly. The poppy fields of her home were a place they would go to often, either to be away from their responsibilities or to simply be free with each other._

 _Now he was hot on her trail as her giggles filled his ears, but not for long. It wasn't long before he pulled her back to his chest and caught her lips hungrily, making her crane her neck to accept it, smiling to his lips in delight. His hands enveloped her middle and slid to her hips before he twirled her around and pulled her flush against him. His eyes locked with hers and she playfully grinned at him. "Not here," she whispered and kissed his jaw affectionately, her arms draping over his shoulders. "I will be patient then, for the night to come." he countered simply, making her raise her eyebrow at him and retract her arms from his neck._

 _"Oh? Is that all I am good for?" she chided teasingly, her hand absentmindedly patting around her neck, one of her quirks to play with the necklace around her neck when she flirted. He was about to comment on that, before he saw how her eyes widened and her hand trailed along her neck. "My pendant!" she exclaimed, panic in her voice. "I couldn't have lost it! My mother gave it to me, by the stars…" her eyes then darted around herself and she turned to him. "Thranduil, help me find it! I love that pendant!" –of course he couldn't deny her, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do after this little minx had lured him so, but he complied._

 _They spent the remaining of the day, tracing their steps back and searching for the pendant, until he found it on the ground over the roots of the tree they had slept under before he started chasing her like a fool. When he did, he looked upon it and he understood why she loved it so much, it was truly breath taking and it only radiated more when it was around her neck, the pendant gleaming like pure starlight. "You found it!" she mused, turning around for him to place it back at its rightful place, only he was more entranced by her exposed neck and shoulders as she held her hair up; instead of the necklace, his lips were the ones that trailed her skin, making her breath quicken. "I will put it back after I am done with you, melamin."_

His heart almost stopped when he saw it clearly in his head and his thumb brushed over the stone languidly. Was it possible? Who could have possibly stolen this? She had it with her eveywhere, all the time, she would have died with it at her neck.

 _"Ada! Please, let me go in as well!"_

 _"No, Thranduil…my men already surveyed the area and there are no survivors."_

 _"But they did not find her body, did they?" he countered furiously, trying to push by his father, blue eyes shadowed with pain. "Her body was not found, ionneg, yes, but the chances of her being alive are very unlikely given this was done by orcs."_

It couldn't be possible. This woman must have been a thief. He needed to know how she came upon this.

With no explanation, he rushed out the door, his eyes scanning the hallway wildly as his heart beat quickened at just the mere possibility of finding clues as to what happened eons ago. Even after so many years, how could she have this effect on him? How could she still make his heart race in such a way? Love was true when it made you writhe in your sleep, when it haunted you every time you closed your eyes, he knew that much, but the way she affected him was beyond any of that, beyond anything one could imagine. He mourned her death until he could no more, until it left him empty and wrathful, hateful, vindictive and sour. Perhaps he had finally earned the right for closure, the right to know what came of his beloved.

His cape fluttered behind him as he walked, expression grave, lips pressed in a thin line and hands into fists, the necklace dangling between his fingers as he passed by some hurried guards.

"Find her!" he shouted again, glancing back, to make sure his orders were understood. The whole fortress was being torn apart from that moment, each guard was looking for her; and the king, even the king, restlessly wandered in hopes that he may find her, an old longing in his heart weighing hard on his chest with each step he took.

* * *

As soon as the area was cleared, she slowly walked out of her hiding place, sneaking around pitifully, hiding behind wooden columns or walls, trying her best not to scream in frustration when she found herself trapped, what with guards everywhere seeking her out like hounds. Panic was beginning to settle into her stomach and she shivered lightly, just now realizing she no longer had her clothes on, but a cotton gown that reached just over her knees –and then the bandage soaked in blood and dripping, sight which had her almost jump out of her skin. By the moon, she left a trail of blood all around! Swallowing thickly, she could feel the dread taking over.

How did she not notice this before? As soon as her mind registered that she was wounded, the hurting started, making her hiss under her breath. What were the chances that she would get out of here and not be hunted down by those foul creatures again? Even she could smell her own blood and she wasn't even that endowed when it came to sharp senses, except for hearing or seeing, which was starting to get very hard to do right about now.

The enormous doors that were laying in front of her, were surely the exit, but as she remained behind one of the wooden columns, she realized that she only had a knife with her and there were two guards at the doors, which made her attempt almost laughable. Her brother's sword had been lost in the forest when her mare was killed by the wolf and she despised how it was not at her hip when she needed it most. Swallowing the knot that formed in her throat again, she made her decision –she was not going down without fighting…or struggling in her case and hopefully punching an elf on her way.

Without a second more, the silverette ran from behind the column towards the great doors, her knife gripped in her hand as she lunged at the guards that didn't even pull their swords when they saw her coming. The battle cry was admirable, though, and her flawless jab too, until it was dodged and the knife knocked out of her hand effortlessly by one of the guards, while the other simply grasped her around the torso and lifted her up as she trashed around, kicking and flailing and punching.

"The thief has been found!" one of them shouted, his voice echoing through the fortress.

It wasn't long before Tauriel came with several more guards behind her and her eyes flicked over the woman that was struggling to get free. Her leg was bleeding again, which meant she opened her wound, but that did not matter now. She had injured the healer who tried to make her better, how dared she? With a frown, the redheaded elleth approached the soldier that kept the woman in a vice grip, her gaze angry "To the dungeons with her!" was the order that she gave not a second later. But as soon as the soldier who had her was going to make his way and lock her away, the voice of the king halted everyone in their spots.

"Aaye!"he slowly approached, his eyes searching among the many elven guards that had gathered in a crowd, each stepping away to let him pass. He found Tauriel and then the thief "...nadorhuan," –but then his heart leaped in his chest, his stomach tightened and his frown vanished completely as soon as her ice cold orbs found his in a furious storm of emotions.

"Iston i nîf gîn,"

* * *

sooooo, this happened

 _Nikerym = Captain_

 _manke naa re? = where is she?_

 _heruamin = my lord_

 _dina! = be silent!_

 _engwarer = ill one_

 _Av-'osto! = don't be afraid!_

 _melamin = my love_

 _Aaye_ _= Halt_

 _Nadorhuan = cowardly dog_

 _Iston i nîf gîn = I know your face_


	4. Chapter 4

_hello, hello! buckle up guys, we're getting to the good stuff_

 _as always, translation at the end. don't forget to review, because your opinion is important to me!_

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* * *

He had matured.

His eyes were colder, his face looked more tired, his hair was longer than she remembered and he carried himself with experienced grace. The simple fact was that the carefree elven prince that she knew back when was not there anymore, there was a king standing before her eyes, a king that had seen and been through hardships and looked as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders.

His hair cascaded down his shoulders like a river of gold, the same strands she used to tangle her fingers into and his eyes, duller, sharper, his royal robes, his air of royalty, she had to remember how to breathe for a second. A crown was resting atop his head, one that truly completed the image of an elven king and not of a prince, making her very much aware of how thin the ice she was walking on right now was.

When his eyes locked on hers, she felt her whole body revolting against her mind, she felt her insides being torn out, confusing her and twisting her in ways she could not comprehend. Like a wave crashing down on her, the memories of the burning corpses and the foul smell filled her nostrils and her eyes with burning tears –he was the son of the man that let that happen. They kept their pompous behinds in the safety of their kingdom and counted the time that it took to completely wipe out all of her people –she could already hear the late king Oropher, deciding his lunch was probably more important than the battle he was supposed to aid her father in –of course, all were delusions of her mind, but she truly believed in those.

The silence that fell over made her almost cringe, but his eyes were still set on her while the guard kept her in place, his grasp still tight around her waist. Tauriel was the first to speak, stepping in front of Thranduil "My lord, this is the—" but she was dismissed when his gaze snapped to her. "Be silent," he ordered in the calmest tone, making Tauriel nod and step away. His eyes were then back on her, like that of a hawk.

"Release her!"

The guard instantly let go of her, leaving her vulnerable with her feet on the ground, just as the elven king stepped closer, making her breath hitch. This was not how she planned everything, why was she losing control of everything right now? As soon as she gathered her voice, her eyes widened and set on his figure "No!" –the footsteps stopped as her voice echoed throughout the halls, one of her hands stretched out in a 'stop' motion, palm halting the elf. Thranduil was standing close enough for her to see his confused eyes, his arms in mid-air, one of his hands clutching her pendant. Was that how he knew then? She didn't even realize she was breathing heavily until she became aware of her surroundings, the eyes of the guards on her and the king, silence settling uncomfortably once more.

"Leave us!" came another cutting order; she looked away trying to even her breathing, the shuffling of feet around her signaling that everyone was leaving, until there was silence again. She could hear her own heartbeat as she kept her hand up still, hoping that would make him go away. His body straightened, arms at his sides, eyes still burning into her very being. What was she supposed to do now? If she didn't find something to hold onto fast, she was going to fall, so she turned her back to him and slowly limped up to a wooden column, before leaning on it and letting herself slip into a sitting position, this time facing him. She wasn't brave enough to look him in the eyes yet, she needed some fuel to her wrath and he wasn't giving her any. It was overwhelming enough that after so many years, she finally met her past lover. Neither of them said anything and she was thankful for that.

His eyes were still fixated on her, unable to form words yet as he analyzed her quietly, lips pressed in a thin line. Many questions ran through his mind, from how she was alive to why she didn't come to him sooner. It had been eons, she could have found him, no? Why didn't she? His eyebrows furrowed lightly and he turned his body towards her, making her eyes flick over his face, those beautiful pools of ice cold blue sharply holding his captive in the most mesmerizing way. She tensed noticeably, but made no move to stand up or run away, which encouraged him to take a step closer to her. What did she go through that made her so guarded, what happened to his dear beloved all these years? Her orbs never left his as he approached, but once he was close enough, her breathing came out heavily again and he took that as a sign to stop.

Shea felt her heart throb and her stomach leap, it was something she could not describe in words. His poised figure, the exuding confidence in his steps, it all made her feel like a deer being hunted and out-witted with so much ease that it was infuriating.

"Av-'osto." he heard himself speak, trying to make her relax in a sense. The fact that she was hurt did not serve him well, given that she must be in pain and scared. The elven king glanced around him and after seeing that no one was around them, he regarded her, pinning her with his cerulean gaze before ever so gracefully, leaning down on one knee before her cowering figure. She averted her eyes from his and pushed herself further to the wooden column behind her, as if it would swallow her up and hide her away forever.

"Shea," his calm tone angered her, made her close her eyes tight and bite down on her tongue, set her jaw. How dare he say her name? How dare he?! Who gave him the right to? Who gave him the permission to look upon her? Bitter, she suddenly glared at him, something that took him by surprise. "No. I will not. Do not call me by the name, elf. There is no dishonor bigger than an enemy calling a fairy by her given name." the burning rage that boiled within her veins was slowly pouring onto the surface, through the cracks of her façade. She started to tremble, eyes ablaze and set on him with wrath he had never seen before.

He wasn't one to feel control slip from under his fingers, but now he felt as if the world was crumbling from underneath him and he could do nothing to make it stop. Why did she dislike him so? Why did she look at him with such hatred and anger? His lips parted, but nothing came out as he watched the woman before him. She was thinner than he remembered, her hair did not shine like it used to and it was chopped carelessly, her body was weak, he couldn't see her wings or she had none any longer, which could only make him imagine what she had been through, yet her eyes were the same as long ago, sharper maybe, but the same ones that always left him breathless. Most of all, she looked ill, her skin paler than it was, perhaps from the blood loss by the look of her leg and the bandages soaked in red –something that had him frown upon. Now was not the time to ask questions or be reckless, she needed healing and rest. The rest could be discussed at a later date.

"You are hurt, Arwenamin," he spoke again, his tone calm yet strict, something that made old tingles return to her like a wave. Nobody addressed her as such anymore, it was why it caught her off-guard and her hard gaze mellowed for but a moment with what he could identify as sorrow and remembrance.

It felt like eternity as they both stared at each other and then his arms wrapped around her before she could protest, he brought her to his chest effortlessly, cradling her in his embrace, one arm keeping her in place while the other sheltered her under his chin, hand over her once brilliant silver tresses. She screamed and struggled, shoved and yanked, kicked her legs as her cries echoed through the fort. Her spirit had not been quenched, he then concluded, she kept fighting, she kept moving and shaking her body to get rid of him, while his arms only tightened more.

Finally, she exhausted her energy and her angered screams turned to choked sobs of frustration at her predicament. Curses and profanities slipping through red lips as he held her with an iron grip to his chest.

She fell asleep in his arms, weakened from the exertion and bloodloss; the king did not dare wake her up, he stood there with her until he believed it was safe to move her body. He carefully gathered her in his arms and stood up, the sleeping faerie's face hidden in his chest as he walked. The guards he passed by did not say a word, but their stares was inevitable and so was the word that would carry through, it wasn't every day that their king carried a woman in his arms so heedfully –no, he never carried anyone other than his son when he was a child. He left her in the healing chambers with a different healer this time, as the other one refused to take her under her care given the previous events.

...

The murmur that went on through the fortress was anything but friendly or courteous after the king had the strange woman looked after, even when she hurt one of their own and caused such useless commotion. Naturally, Tauriel caught wind of what happened, even as the king dismissed her along with all the guards –it was impossible not to hear the elleths mumble about it, after all.

The captain had to face the king herself over the things that had fallen over her ears. She found him two days later after the commotion, deciding it was the right time to open her mouth, seeing as he was sitting on his throne overlooking a letter and unbothered by his council. As she approached, she noticed how he looked thoughtful, fallen into the depths of his mind, gaze blankly set on the stairs at the throne while his arms draped elegantly over the cape that covered the seat, paper forgotten in his hand.

"Goheno nin, Hîr vuin," she began, bowing at the stairs, snapping Thranduil out of his thoughts with her voice so intruding. He sighed contently and leaned back into his seat, eyes now set on her figure "Mani naa ta, Tauriel?"

"I wish to ask you something, my lord," her eyes met his and he looked rather distracted for some reason. It made her raise her eyebrows at the discovery, but say no more of it. "My lord, why did you aid the woman that hurt our healer? After all the commotion, I do not understand."

Thranduil's eyes were on her, predatory and sharp. His face remained expressionless, but she saw how his right hand twitched slightly at her question. As impertinent as she may have been, Tauriel wanted to know the truth. Just who was this woman that turned their King into a man that aided thieves or helped those that wished their kind ill? It was not like him to do so. Usually, it would have been off with their heads or in the best circumstance, incarcerated for life in the dungeons.

"That…is not really of any importance to you, is it?" his cutting tone echoed throughout the room, making her clench her jaw and swallow. He had a way of placing boundaries, and she was crossing one.

"My lord, I was simply curious why—"

"Tauriel, your curiosity will lead you to trouble in this manner." he interrupted, not even glancing at the red headed elleth that remained unshaken at the feet of the stairs, not daring to glance back up "I believe that is a trait found mainly in humans. Have you forgotten what your heritage is? Need I remind you of your position?" it was time to leave, she knew it.

"Goheno nin, Hîr vuin."

At the wave of his hand, she wasted no time and left, letting out a long exhale of breath she had been holding while there. He intimidated her more than often and it felt exhilarating when she faced him bravely during the battle, when he wanted to leave the battlefield, yet now, she was back to her old self –no longer did she feel courageous.

Stopping by the healing chambers, Tauriel lingered around only to catch a glimpse of the woman that was inside, making sure she did not pull any stunt again, before returning to her duties as it was time for the night patrol. The woods were far from safe, and she needed to clear her head too, finding patrolling a good enough distraction for the time being.

* * *

"Where is she?"

"I don't know, Lathai, maybe…she's not interested anymore?" the woman teased, her sandy brown curls bouncing when she laughed. Lathai, an elf with raven hair and emerald-like eyes, glared towards the human woman that accompanied him, a snarl upon his fair features. "Do not make me regret the day I saved your petty existence from those orcs." he spat, making her flinch away from him and sit down on the rocks near the Long Lake.

"Lathai, I'm pretty sure she would've been here by now. Yer sure she said she gonna come?" the half elf half human asked as well, the male's brown tresses tied into a braided tail that fell over his shoulder as he sharpened his lance.

"Yes." he hissed towards his companions, turning his sharp gaze towards the forest once more, his brows furrowing in both worry and impatience. Shea was part of them, she was part of him and he did not like leaving her alone for long periods of time. Not like this.

...

 _"I will meet you at the Long Lake, it will not take me long to pass Mirkwood. I wish to ride alone for once." she spoke confidently, drinking from her cup with eyes closed. He couldn't help but admire her determination; his hand slowly cupped the mug from her hand and set it down. "I believe that is enough drinking, Shea."_

 _She wrinkled her nose and her eyes locked on his. Oh, what a beautiful creature she was when she stared him down like this. "I am no child, you know that." she insisted, brushing a hand through her silver locks, dirtied lightly by the road they had gone on before they stumbled upon an old inn. "I know, am I not allowed to tease you once in a while?" he chuckled, ruffling her hair in good fun. He didn't want her to know he would rather wrap his fingers into those tresses and press her against the wall savagely, no, that was too brusque, even for him –the king of thieves, the leader of the night riders._

 _The purse of her lips made him pause "Very well then. Do you promise you will be there in five days?"_

 _"Yes," she was fast to reply. "At sunset?"_

 _"Yes,"_

 _"Do you promise?" –he leaned in barely, his eyes testing hers, prodding to see if she was genuine. "Yes," she gave him a small smile, leaning back and folding her arms over her chest. He couldn't help the smile that curled on his face either. For a cold-blooded murderer and thief, he was rather eager and soft around her, as if he was young again, young and in love. His companions noticed this too, long ago when Lathai found her cowering in a ditch, wings freshly torn from her flesh, bloody, starving, dirty and crying. He was the only one that stopped his horse and went to help her, the only one that showed her mercy and kindness when everyone else had turned their backs on her._

...

Just thinking about it made him go mad. She was supposed to be here by now and it made him walk pace around in circles, restless and eyes wild. "Calm down, will ya? I'm startin' to get dizzy just by lookin' at ya," his fellow halfling muttered in annoyance.

Lathai's eyes ficked to him cuttingly and in a matter or seconds, his blade was at the throat of the half-elf. "I will not calm down. She was supposed to be here by now. Something must have happened." he spat, pulling the blade away and back at his hip before he went to get his black stallion.

"Lathai! The others are waiting for us in the village near the Sea of Rhun, we have a long ride to there! You are their leader, is it worth it? We can leave her behind, she will find her way!" the woman yelled at him as he mounted the horse, her eyes desperately pleading for him to leave the girl behind and ride with them where they belonged. "I believe she is worth my every effort."

"She has bewitched you! Turned you against us!" the woman began again, hands clung to his leg, making him glare down at her. "Madeline! That is enough." he hissed before he pulled his horse to the side and glanced at his now quiet half-elf companion. "Ruven, ride to the others and tell them I shall be late." and with that he sprung within the deep and dark forest, his mind set on saving his faerie. His? Yes, because the thief king was selfish and possessive, he did not even comprehend the meaning of sharing what he believed was his, be it treasure or people.

...

 _"I hate your kind!" –she was bold, he could tell that much. Her body was dirty and he could barely make out her features from the dry blood and the mud that tainted her so degradingly. He sat at the table in the room he had bought for the night at the first inn that came into his sight, hoping to get the girl some clean clothes and a warm meal in her stomach, but she did not want to cooperate._

 _She kept screaming that she hated his kin, that she wished he would die in a fire, that she would rather be dead than breathing the same air as him –something that made him frown. "I heard that the first time you said it." he tried to speak calmly, his eyes on her, unimpressed by her display. "But you are dirty and hurt, probably hungry too, so why don't you stop whining like a pretentious brat and go get yourself cleaned?"that had her stop flapping her lips for the time being._

 _She glared at him but snatched the clothes he offered her from his satchel and stomped to the bathing room, which was simply a small room with wooden walls and a wooden barrel filled with warm water. As soon as she left, he sighed and ran a hand through his raven hair "What a troublesome woman…" he muttered to himself. While she was gone, he kept glancing towards the room, wondering if she ran or drowned, but when she finally showed herself to him, he could barely contain himself as he drank in her appearance._

 _He had never seen hair as silver as hers or skin as fair, or eyes as blue and haunting as she had. He had to glance away –it was true what he heard about faeries, they did have an outlandish beauty to themselves. "You cleaned up…nicely." he found himself sputtering, fumbling with the dagger he was sharpening in his hand._

 _"That is just sad, because your presence still irritates me, elf." she countered with a glare. It was in that moment that the night rider leader fell for the feisty woman that he saved. His eyes caught hers in a frenzy and he stood up, making her step back at his sudden move –but he only came closer until her back was pressed on the wall behind her._

 _His face was so close that she could see even the small scar underneath his cheekbone, the specks of golden in his eyes like molten lava and how the fair skin contrasted perfectly with the raven locks that draped elegantly over his black armor. "That mouth of yours will not serve you well if you plan to survive," he spoke in a low menacing tone, her breath hitching at the closure. "I am not one of those pompous elves you knew. Let that sink into that pretty head of yours. I am a thief and a mercenary…so choose your words wisely, faerie." he backed away after having said what he needed to and let her soak in the information while he went back to preparing his weapons for the journey ahead._

 _Shea met the exception to the rule that day, learned to respect the man and follow him, becoming one of his own. Not a race of any kind, not part of any kin, but part of a group of people that did not belong anywhere but together._

* * *

 _soooooo, shea has some secrets of her own!_

 _Av-'osto = don't be afraid_

 _Arwenamin = my lady_

 _Goheno nin, Hîr vuin = forgive me, my lord_

 _Mani naa ta, Tauriel = what is it, tauriel_


	5. Chapter 5

_hey hey hey~_

 _guess who's back with an update! I love that a large amount of people read this story in such a short time span_

 _thank you all! please continue to encourage me through messages and reviews! it really helps a great deal with my motivation to write when I know that others enjoy it!_

 _arowanaax3 : aaa, thank you thank you! here is the update!_

* * *

The oils that soaked her white tresses had a scent all too familiar to the faerie, along with the soaps and ointments, her skin extremely thankful for the attention of the products that caressed it. Even with foreign fingers massaging through her scalp and hair, even in the fog from her bathing water, even if she wasn't supposed to be here in the first place, the woman couldn't help but sigh in content at the relaxing atmosphere. She would take what she could.

It had been about four days since the incident with the elven king, time in which she refused to see the ellon or let him inside her designated room to see her, a request that she knew he would respect because it was her; she knew it was taking advantage of his patience, but he deserved every bad thing that was going to come his way. Granted, she was no fool. Pulling any stunt on his domain was suicide, therefore, she had to be shrewd about this. Live today, fight tomorrow, she would soothe her mind.

At first she was appointed an elleth as her maid, then, after she drove the woman out of her chambers in tears, she was sent a half-elleth, by request, again. The other two days were mainly spent by her stating she did not want to see the face of the elven king, even when he was outside her chambers. He left of course, but made sure a healer was always checking on her, three times a day, and that food was brought to her bed, the same amount of times. Nothing he did really impressed her though, Shea remained as cold and unresponsive as she was able, choosing to forget the moment of vulnerability not too far ago.

That alone was a hard blow to the little pride she still had left in her. In fact, she was going to be a menace in his kingdom, until he was going to kick her out because it was necessary for his own well being and that of his people.

"My lady, you have such beautiful hair!" the maid, Ylvis, chirped, her fingers tangled in the silver strands, startling the fae from her daydreaming. Ice blues quickly snapped to the half-elf, before they venomously turned back to the reflection in the water. Awkwardness hung in the air, until Shea finally spoke again, surprising the maid with a question. "How is Thranduil's wife like?"

It was a genuine question. Shea knew he married an elleth at some point, rumors traveled faster than her horse did, catching up with her while she was wandering Arda. From that point on, she made it her mission to avoid any other information about him as a person, it was better for her to never know. "Was, my lady…" –her eyes flicked towards the woman again, craning her neck before twisting her body around. With little effort, she moved to the edge of the bathing tub, sliding her arms over it, eyes gleaming with interest. So she was dead? Served him right. At least he got the bitter taste of how losing someone you loved felt like. "Tell me more." came her response. The maid regarded her oddly, but started cleaning her hair again, her posture relaxing once more.

"There is a lot to say, my lady. I was but a young girl then..." she muttered, separating strands of white. A little smile played on her lips then, her rosy cheeks catching fire as her green eyes twinkled. "She had such a kind smile, it brightened everyone when she stepped into the room. She held herself with so much grace and elegance, she fit our poor king so well too! She always managed to soothe his burdened mind and tend to his hardened heart." a chuckle followed suit "She had such long hair, the color of the sun, with eyes as blue as the ocean, so warm and welcoming, my lady, I was so sad when the news of her death reached Mirkwood." –so, Thranduil chose her complete opposite as a wife, as the soul he wanted to bond with for the rest of his life. It made Shea a little angry, the thought of her being so easy to forget and replace. For a time, she was hoping the memory of her would have had him twisting and turning, torturing him, because that brought some satisfaction.

"Fortunately, she left him a son to remind him of her. Prince Legolas is certainly a gem, handsome as well." the maid added with a smile, her eyes making contact with the faerie's. He even had a son? It was good information, she was going to store it for later. No matter what, the knot in her stomach only tightened. "Fascinating." the silverette stated quite coldly as she rose up from the water, her skin clean and soft now.

"Shall I prepare a gown for you, my lady?" the halfling was fast on her feet and with a cotton towel in her arms, outstretched towards Shea.

"One that is comfortable for sleep."

"Yes, my lady." –with that, Ylvis hurried out to leave Shea to dry herself. It finally gave her a moment to asses her position and her plans. The mirror in the bathing room was foggy, thankfully, and she wrapped the towel around her lithe body with vigor –for some reason, she despised looking into mirrors since she left her kingdom, she didn't want to see how she looked like any more, not if she was going to see her father's eyes staring back at her. Besides that, her appearance was the last of her concerns at the moment.

When she finally came out, Ylvis was quick to point her to her clothing and a tray of fruit waiting on the nightstand next to her bed. "My lady, the king wishes to see you…" –there it went again. This was becoming a ritual.

"Tell him I do not wish to see or speak to him." came her casual response as she absentmindedly grabbed a red apple and bit into it uncaring. "My lady, it has been four days…"

"So?"

"King Thranduil –"

"—Will run out of patience? I had enough patience to last me decades. He will wait."

She could be ruthless and manner-less, the maid concluded as she bowed her head and scurried out the door, leaving the fairy to her lonesome self again. With little care, she let the towel drop to the floor and moved to the simple white gown that awaited her on the bed. Shea simply pulled the cloth over her head and let the material do the rest, as it slid down to her knees. After that deed was done, she ate the rest of her apple and feasted on some more fruits before climbing into the bed and succumbing to the warmth of the covers.

Truth be told, she wasn't ready to have a proper conversation with Thranduil. Actually, she wasn't planning on having a conversation with him at all. Her plan was to avoid him as much as possible, until she was able to get around the fortress and map the directions in her mind; she was good with memorizing after all. After that, she would wait for the opportunity to run, when they least expect it and when she is trusted enough to not be questioned. For this, she needed to know where the exit was, learn the pattern of the guards, get to know where the kitchens were in order to get some supplies and the stables too, for a horse. At least she had something, a list of things to do and look forward to.

All in all, escaping was her priority and if she had to be cunning for that, she would do it without remorse.

…

"I'm deeply sorry, my lord, the lady said she doesn't wish to speak to you or see you. She just finished her bath and said she will go to sleep shortly." Ylvis knew of Thranduil's wrath, and coming with the bad news to him like this made her worry for the guest, but what could she do when that woman was being so infuriatingly stubborn? Her green eyes peeked from her bowing position, just to check on her king's facial expression, which, to her surprise, remained neutral.

"Did she eat?"

The question surprised Ylvis; his questions about the woman usually did. He didn't seem concerned with her indignant behavior or disrespectful provocation, but more for her well being, asking if she ate properly, if she slept well, if she enjoyed her baths or if her wound was healing; she was a maid, but that didn't make her stupid to what was going on. He apparently knew her once, as the rumors went, he even carried her in his arms, gave her the chambers closest to his own, looked after her like a husband would look after his wife –but she was not _his_ wife! Puzzled, but regaining her composure fast, the half-elleth nodded curtly "Yes, my lord, she was eating when I left."

"That is good. You may leave. Do not forget to brew her lavender tea. She needs rest in order to heal properly." He added, just before she made to leave, another statement that surprised Ylvis greatly. What was this woman to her king? The maid was hell-bent on finding out this, even if she had to ask the silver-haired girl herself. Bowing one last time, she finally left, passing by Tauriel on her way out.

"My king, I come with news from the forest. We found a pack of orcs, but we slayed them quickly. We suspect there are more roaming our forest. Me and my men will tear out the rest of the weeds tomorrow. As for our guest's belongings, they have been found."

"Very well, Tauriel. Return them to her as soon as possible." he dismissed the elleth, still somewhat distracted. "Yes, My lord."

It was the last thing Ylvis heard as she hurried to the kitchens for the young woman's lavender tea.

* * *

"What did she get herself into?" was the only thing Lathai could ask himself when he found the carcass of a horse, supposedly, what used to be Shea's horse, judging by the white ribboned braid it had on the side, half eaten, the sword she used to carry with herself everywhere she went, now dirtied and forgotten on the ground, along with a small satchel she was probably carrying with her for necessities. What truly intrigued him were the two killed dire wolves at the base of a tree, the arrows they were struck down with, clearly belonging to wooden elves judging by the craftsmanship. Then there was the splotch of old, dried blood on the bark, claws as well.

The raven-haired elf quietly regarded the sight, a frown evident on his face as his eyes traced the belongings of his dear Shea and then the tree's branches. There were only two ways this went; the first possibility was that she was alive, found by the elves and taken to be healed to the Woodland Kingdom or she was dead and they felt the need to give her a proper ceremony as she was always confused for a she-elf. In both cases, the conclusion was that she would most likely be within the Elven King's fortress, a man he knew Shea despised for some reason or another; she had many secrets that she carried on her shoulders and while he had the honor of listening to some of her tales when she would decide to open up to him on certain occasions, her grudge with the Mirkwood King was not something she cared to tell him.

"Curse my luck." he mumbled under his breath as he made his way towards the sword and her small bag from near the dead mare. Picking it up, he made sure that the crest on the hilt was indeed the edelweiss flower, before strapping it at his hip. Suddenly, his ears picked up movement sounds not very far from his position; he had left his horse in a clearing, far into the forest so that he would be light on his feet and track the faerie through the brush. His only option was to climb the very same tree that Shea probably had, camouflage himself through the leaves.

"Captain, it is clear in this parts, me and Lavis took down two orcs on the east side." A masculine voice entered the perimeter, a red haired elleth next to him, six more wood elves trailing behind the two. "Very well, it is getting dark, we will resume the hunting of those foul creatures tomorrow. I will report everything to King Thranduil."

"Yes, Captain."

Suddenly, they stopped, Lathai's sharp eyes set on the group as they regarded their surroundings. "This is where the woman was attacked. See if you can find anything that belongs to her, I doubt she had time to pick anything when she was wounded. King Thranduil ordered us to bring back anything that may be of hers."

"Captain, we should leave, though." The same man addressed her, making a good point. "I will remain to look for anything, Captain, go ahead, I will return as fast as I can." Another male elf suggested, making the others look at him. He was probably trying to get into the good graces of the she-elf.

"Very well, find me when you return and if you find anything, send them to me." came the redhead's response after a long pause. With that, one elven soldier remained behind while the rest of them left. Lathai couldn't stop the cruel smirk that curled over his lips –luck was on his side it seemed. He doubted anyone would tell the difference if he took the place of the stupid wooden elf. That thought in mind, the male leaped off the branch where he was hiding and landed right behind the male without any sound. With agility, he struck the unsuspecting ellon with his sword, piercing him directly through the chest before he could even let a cry escape his throat. "Oh, I believe we are the same size, is that not fortunate?" he commented as he tore his blade out from the body, blood cascading down and painting the ground.

Lathai had a plan in his mind now, he had a mission that he was bent on completing at any cost; getting Shea back from that forsaken place. He used the soldier's clothing and the armor to cover his figure along with the head piece that hid away his features from any curious eyes. Kicking the corpse over a more steep hill after carrying it to a safe place, where he had left his horse, the ravenet freed the stallion as well and resumed his journey.

It didn't take him long to catch the trail of the wooden elves and enter the Kingdom, giving the belongings of Shea to another guard to present them to that redheaded she-elf. Lathai found himself smirking at the prospect of sneaking into the great elven king's fortress with such ease. He must be truly good –like they said, wooden elves were not the wisest, but they were more dangerous, so, an elf like him, hailing originally from Rivendell had that as an advantage.

Now, he just had to familiarize himself with the surroundings and behave like one of their puppet soldiers until he figured what happened to the fay and found a quick way out, no matter if she was alive or dead.

* * *

Her sleep had been plagued by nightmares, to the point where she chose to remain awake rather than kicking around and mewling pathetically. It must have been that dreadful blonde sprite's fault that her mind was once again disturbed by those awful dreams. Shea now stood in the bed, her knees pulled to her chest, contemplating, plotting and restlessly trying to find a solution to her predicament. This struggle had to stop before she lost her sanity over it; but how was she to earn the trust of his people if she didn't cut off the head of the beast first? If the king liked her and trusted her then so would his subjects. That meant she would eventually have to look at his face and pretend she was enjoying his presence.

With an almost strangled sigh, the fae made an effort and pulled herself off the bed, finding a robe on one of the chairs and draping it over her figure. At this late hour, chances were that he was sleeping and she could roam the halls, after all, she needed to get to know the halls of the dome if she wanted to get out, so what better time than at night. There had to be more ways out of here too, she knew elves, they wouldn't rely on a single way out of the wooden kingdom, they were smarter than that.

As she opened the door to her chambers, she almost jumped out of her skin at the sight of two elven guards standing at her doorway. "What in the—" she breathed out, placing a hand over her racing heart. "Excellent, more elves, because having to deal with your healers and your maids and your king was not quite enough," her little rant fell on deaf ears, they didn't even react to her temper tantrum, instead they remained there, statuesque. Frowning and crossing her arms over her chest, the fairy took that as her cue to leave; no soon did she step out of the room that the two guards did the same, both of them now behind her like two literal statues.

"Marvelous." –she was angry now. Turning around, she eyed the two with the most heated glare she could manage "Do you not have anything better to do? A female elf to rut with? Some harps to play? A king to pamper? I don't particularly enjoy having two sprites around me. Shoo!" she waved downwards with her hands in a dismissive manner, her glare remaining still, just like the two elven lads before her. Thinking that this should do, the silverette turned to walk down the hallway again –with the annoying echo of two heavy footfalls behind her, sickeningly in synch with the other.

With a huff, she twirled back around to face the two infuriating soldiers. "Are you quite serious now?! Stop it!" her hands balled into fists as she yelled at them this time.

"I'm afraid they will not take any orders other than the king's, my lady."

She faintly remembered that feminine voice. Her head whipped around to find a tall female elf staring back at her. The posture she had, the way she talked and presented herself, made Shea understand that she had some kind of military upbringing or at least some training. Then there was the red hair, beautifully curled at the ends, with a fierce look in her forest-green eyes that simply exuded authority in a way that was pleasing to the eye.

"And who are you?" the fairy was not going to be intimidated easily, she was not going to stand down and let these elves do what they wanted. "My name is Tauriel, my lady. Me and my men found you in the forest and brought you here." her reply was short and on point, then, she made her way to Shea without a second breath, outstretching an arm to her, hand tight on a brown worn-out satchel. Her satchel, that she lost in the woods, when she was attacked.

Her eyes widened and she wasted no time in grabbing the offering, not even wasting a 'thank you' as she looked through her belongings, which weren't many. There were some coins there, her wooden flute and –a sigh of relief left her lips as she gathered the white golden crown in her nimble fingers that had started to shake. Her father's crown was still there, thank Eru. Tauriel couldn't help but watch the girl as she rummaged through that satchel until she found what she was looking for, making the she-elf frown in confusion. Why was there a crown in her hands? Who did it belong to? Who was she? What was she?

Now that she took a closer look, she did not even resemble the mess she found up on that branch, bloody and dirty. Her silver hair now shone in gentle curls, naturally draping over her exposed fair skin, the silk gown underneath the open robe leaving some of her flesh bare, her legs and feet, then her collarbone and neck; she wasn't littered with scars, so she was not a warrior, or was she? Her features were slightly different than the elves of Rivendell or Lothlorien, different from sindarin because of the snow white tresses and different from silvan for the pointier and slightly longer ears. Then there were her eyes, the lightest blue she had ever seen, her posture, the way she carried herself with grace even if she didn't realize it, as if she was of royal descent –her movements reminded her of Thranduil and Legolas, her features too uncommon and exotic to be a commoner.

"Who are you? What are you?" the redhead finally asked in one breath, not making any move to approach the other woman. The silverette held the crown to her chest, clung to it like a child as her eyes remained on the ground, where her satchel now laid forgotten. At the question of the elleth, Shea flicked her gaze up, analyzing her from head to toe, the corners of her lips twitching in distaste. Of course she wouldn't recognize a faerie even if it slapped her multiple times over her face. Biting down the thread of insults that accumulated in her throat, she finally decided to answer as simply as she was able, hoping the she-elf would comprehend.

"A faerie."


	6. Chapter 6

hey hey hey~ happy to bring ya'll an update! thank you all for reading this piece of fiction

 **alliesmiley2** : i'm glad you like it so far! thanks for the review

 **cxrclet** : oh man oh man, i'm so happy you like shea, she's indeed something, ain't she? i always felt more attracted to the idea of a shrewd kind of character; as for the faerie peeps, well, there will be small things revealed every chapter, in order to paint an idea of how they were like, since I have a pretty solid image of their society, traditions, history and culture and I hope you'll like it just as much! thank you for the review!

review, favorite, message and follow? pretty please? o Do /

* * *

"A faerie?"

The question and the tonality seemed mocking and incredulous, as if she was expected to admit of being one of their kin. Shea's eyes coldly regarded the elleth, her grip on the crown tightening and a storm brewing. "Fairies are barely even mentioned in any writings or tales, they are said to have perished a long time ago, in the second age…our chronicles say so." the redhead added, quirking an eyebrow at the silverette.

"Perhaps you need to know how to read first before delving into unknown waters of knowledge that you do not possess."

"Pardon?" this was starting to heat up very fast, Shea's sharp tongue at work, with fuel provided by Tauriel. "No. I shall not pardon your blatantly ignorant mockery at the expense of my people's history, you foul uncultured elf."

That was it. Tauriel's eyes burned with an intense and uncontrolled glare, followed by Shea's own menacing one, without missing a beat.

"Do you have any idea who you are speaking to?"

"No. Nor do I care or wish to know. Is it worth my time? I don't believe any elf is worthy of wasting my time, so how are you any special?" the venom with which the fae spoke made the she-elf's skin crawl and the hair on her neck to stand up.

"I am Tauriel, the Captain of the guards." she spoke, bristled, underlining each word and pressing her authority status onto the other woman. However, she only met that statement with a raise of a slender brow, a quirk of her mouth into what Tauriel believed was amusement.

"Oh, seriously now…this is becoming rather childish."

"I assure you, my lady, I am far older than you are."

"Are you?" Shea chuckled mirthfully, a dismissal of her hand as she turned to leave for her chambers. It seemed that her plan was futile, she couldn't roam freely, not with this sassy sprite at her back or with the two lackeys ordered to follow her every step. Tauriel remained still, eyes narrowed at the departing figure of the silverette, a deep frown on her features; who was this woman? A question that lingered painfully in her mind, even after said culprit retreated back to her room, the two guards following suit and stopping at the doorway.

"Make sure she does not leave the room without your company."

* * *

"Ylvis, was it?" –the playfulness in the fay's voice made the maid regard her wearily, just as she placed the tray of fresh food on the nightstand, in the morning. "Yes, my lady, that is my name. Can I be of service?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, you can. When I was brought here, I had a pendant with me, but I can't seem to find it. Look for it and bring it to me if you find it." Shea spoke as she laid on the bed, propped on one side, eyes boring over the half-elf and a faint smile on her lips. Hopefully, those infuriating woodland sprites didn't take it from her for a pretty penny.

Ylvis remained still for a moment, before looking away. She had seen the King with a pendant wrapped around his wrist when she reported to him last night, perhaps that was the item she was looking for. Biting her lips, the woman finally looked at the girl bravely, deciding some answers were in order. "My lady, if you do not mind me asking…where are you from?" -she was entitled to at least so much, especially after the odd behavior of her king and the request the white haired lady had for her. In fact, she was half-expecting her inquiry to be ignored completely, by the way Shea looked at her for a moment.

The melodious chuckle surprised her, more so when the silver-haired minx rolled on her stomach and watched her in a predatory way from the bed, legs dangling playfully. "You elves are so curious, even the halflings, you would think that the ability to live for centuries would somehow give your kind some insight instead of more shallowness; but you can't help it, not when you are a half-breed of a human and an elf, no? You wish to know everything, to turn every stone and seek the answer you want…one day, it will be death you will find."

"My lady, please do not wish ill upon me or my people…"

"Your kind wished ill upon my people. Luckily, they are all dead, burned alive. Have you ever smelled burning flesh? I have."

"My lady—"

"Do not dare interrupt me; your kind and your king are all ignorant, indifferent and most of all, ruthlessly greedy. Do not dare speak of ill will, about your people's kindness, your dead queen or anything of that aspect in my presence. Your kin prospered while mine was slaughtered like pigs -" the fae stopped, before she blurted any more of that out of rage. She deserved to at least have her belongings returned to her, because they were the last bits that remained of her loved ones and the memories she carried within her heart.

Ylvis, however, was on the point of crying, Shea now standing up from the bed, inching closer to the woman, viciously slashing her with her sharp gaze. "That pendant is mine, it belonged to my mother, I asked you to bring it to me. Do as I say." at that point, the fairy was so close to the maid that she could hear her racing heart.

"Leave my sight."

When Ylvis scurried away with tears in her eyes and the door closed behind her, Shea's body relaxed and her eyes softened, turning look longingly at the crown that was on the bed. All the anger she had been holding inside came crashing down on a poor half-elleth that had no idea what was really happening or why it was happening. A sigh escaped her lips and she found herself with dreaded guilt knotting in her stomach. What was it with this place that made her feel so emotional?

* * *

"My lord, she wishes to have her pendant back, she says it belongs to her…" Ylvis tried, having prostrated herself at the stairs of the throne, cheeks still wet from the previous clash with the woman. It would serve as a lesson to keep her questions to herself and avoid being punished with such harsh words again. Truly, she could not understand why the guest harbored such hatred towards her kin or her king.

Thranduil had been busily speaking with two council men when she showed up and told him what had transpired and the request the female had. He quickly dismissed the two elves and listened to what she had to say, up until this point, a thoughtful expression crossing his features at the news.

He couldn't understand what was happening to Shea, he couldn't understand and that alone angered him, confused him and frustrated him into complete silence. He always kept his composure in every given situation, even when his father was slayed, even when his wife died…even then, he managed to keep control over everything, including his emotions. Now, it was beginning to affect him unpleasantly, irk him from the inside, not only because she refused to have any contact with him, but also because this was the second elleth that she made cry…in just a few days.

Which begged the questions of 'what happened to her? how did she change so much? what hardened and made her so cold?' and 'what can be done about it?'. The talk he needed to have with her couldn't be avoided any longer, his insides were burning, he wanted… _no_ , needed to know what happened to her.

"If she wishes for this to be returned to her, she must come and retrieve it herself. Deliver this message to her."

Ylvis' eyes widened, the thought of going back to that awful woman making her physically flinch and feel nauseous. Knowing Shea, he knew that she was easily provoked, anything could set her off. He still remembered vividly how she used to fuss over the smallest of things, even a question asked with the wrong tonality would have her bite back like a snake. He dismissed the maid with a wave of his hand, twisting the little pendant between his fingers absentmindedly, tracing the pattern of it and the stone with his thumb.

If anything, she was easy to bait into leaving the safety of her hiding and if he had to force her out in this manner, then he would.

…

It was a matter of time before his theory came to fruition, her voice clear as day, roaring with wrath in her wake, spatting and hissing at the guards or other elves that she passed by.

As expected, after so many years, she was still predictable in his eyes. When he saw her, that was another story completely, because he was left breathless by the appearance of her. The brilliantly silver hair cascading temptingly down her slender shoulders in soft curls, shining with health as it used to, just as he remembered from his youth; he could already imagine the velvety texture underneath his fingertips, sensations he longed after still.

The white satin dress that draped over her body was tantalizingly, showing the fair skin of her neck and arms, her collarbone and a small portion of her chest, but hiding everything else from sight other than the faint indication of her curves when she moved. Suffice to say, she radiated like a goddess in her elegant simplicity and he felt like the fool that would forever worship her very existence. So sublimely out of place, she was.

"I want my pendant back!" she finally found her voice to demand, the maid, Ylvis shortly behind her with a pleading look "My lady! Please be reasonable!" –that plea was met with an icy glare from Shea, shutting the woman up completely. Thranduil, having seen enough and swallowing his contradicting emotions, slowly stood up from his throne, his cape draping elegantly over his shoulders as he descended down the stairs, quiet and precise in his steps.

"Ego!" at his sudden order, Ylvis jumped and Shea averted her eyes from his figure. The maid bowed low and left, the guards around the throne room following suit, a deafening silence behind them. The woodland king stopped at the base of the stairs, keeping a decent distance from her, while his ceruleans analyzed her quietly, from the heaving of her chest to the way her frown made that crease appear between her brows.

"I wish to have my pendant back." her demand came again, in a softer voice. "Hiril vuin, I do know of the importance this holds for you," he started calmly, raising the pendant in his hand for her to see it closely. Her eyes swept over the item and she bit her lower lip with controlled anger rising in her heart. "However, I cannot return it to you until you are healed. At the least, you will remain here because of it." – _that slimy bastard_ –her glare flicked over that face of his, finally meeting his eyes. It seemed that time preserved his looks quite well. Her hands clenched into fists and her gaze faltered to somewhere else at that disgusting thought that slithered through her mind.

"Gi nathlam hí," –he dared speak in his tongue? Shea knew his language, she had to learn it in a world where elves were mightier than other races, it was a requirement for all to have basic knowledge about it in order to keep a healthy alliance between the kingdoms. It didn't mean she ever enjoyed speaking it back. Now it was an exception, however.

"Ni ú-edhel. Ú-bedin edhellen," her cutting remark didn't stop him from closing in and beginning to circle her, much like a mountain lion, slow graceful movements, the regality that poured from his posture, how he held his chin high and the way his eyes would fleet over her; she would have been a liar if she said that all this didn't make her suffocate.

"You speak it well despite that," he commented, stopping just behind her, his pressuring gaze upon her long locks that covered her back. He didn't know what happened to her, he didn't want to pry either, but he couldn't help noticing the lack of wings –her beautiful gossamer wings. Without thinking much of his actions, his hand reached out and gently touched the area of her back where they used to be, tracing the spot where he remembered they were situated while her body went rigid the moment she felt his touch.

"What happened to you…will you ever be able to tell me?" his voice was calm, soothing even, and she couldn't stop her long exhale, her muscles tense from the sudden gesture. "If it is I that you despise so strongly, an ngell nîn, tell me so. Let your wrath pour from your heart, I can see that you have been through much…since…then…" he made small pauses, removing his hand and continuing his walk until he was next to her, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from him and their arms almost touched. He angled his head to the side, gazing down upon her, noticing how she remained still and unresponsive, her eyes coldly glaring at nothing but in front of her.

She was starting to crack. He knew that very well.

Thranduil leaned close to her ear, her proximity intoxicating him with the familiar scent "Why have you not sought me out? Why have you left me to believe that you were...gone?" his whisper was bitter, a taint of anger behind his words. Her soft features turned menacing and her fists trembled –he stepped back and then stopped in front of her.

"Because I would have rather you think of me as a corpse than having to face the son of Oropher who let my kin die in the fire and slaughter brought on by the army of foul orcs!"

That was the reaction he was waiting for, her screaming, the gathering tears in her eyes, her anger and the raw emotion with which she glared at him. "Because your kin did nothing to save mine! Because I had to see the burnt corpses of my family, my friends, every man and woman I knew! All you did was look around the remains and take my people's treasures! You just picked the scraps, you took what was left, was that deliberate? Was it some ploy all along, Thranduil?" she panted now, eyes widened and glazed over by wrath and tears. After all, the faeries were known to have hoarded riches from all over Arda, gems of pure starlight, gold of all colors and the most precious of metals decorating their walls in luxurious designs and forged into weapons and armor. Most of all, they were known for their talent in the art of sculpture and painting, statues made of marble, their architecture unrivaled by any other race, commissioned by late kings and queens to forever commit their faces to history through either of the two.

"Do you have any idea how it felt? My kin became a myth, a tale of old age, a whisper! Humans ripped my wings from my back! I was beaten up, starved and alone! I had no one to turn to because I knew beforehand how elves are as friends, as allies…they stab their friends in the back and take their treasures, like your father did to my father!"

Thranduil remained speechless throughout the accusations, his face contorted in shock and disbelief. She was trembling and crying, coming undone before his eyes "I will never forgive you for this! I despise you and I despise your kind, may you burn like my brothers and sisters did!" she raised her hand to gesture and that was the moment the elven king finally decided to act.

In the blink of an eye, he grabbed her wrist tightly and stared her down with a heated glare that could have frozen any foe in their spot, but not her. "My father did no such thing! Your message of distress reached us too late, Shea, there was nothing we could do. If you are willing to let me justify the predicament that—" she twisted her arm, breaking his grip "No! No more excuses for what happened! Are you honestly trying to do this? Really, Thranduil? Is this all my suffering is worth? An explanation?"

Was this what she believed all this time? Was this why she chose to remain dead to him? She fooled him. She let him believe that she died by the hands of orcs, slaughtered, left him grieving, mourning, empty and angry, frustrated that he couldn't do anything for the love of his life, all done deliberately. She made him feel helpless, worthless and tore heart into millions of pieces –she fooled him, just because of what she believed to be true, a distorted image of the reality. For eons he was struck by grief and for eons he let his heart weep in her memory.

He felt sick to his stomach as his eyes burned into hers, anger flashing through them like thunder, an ancient kind of wrath rising in his chest with vigor. Was this a game for her? Who gave her the right to do this? She could have told him all that time ago that she hated his kin, that she wished him dead and he would have taken it with dignity, accepted his fate, as long as he knew she was alive –but after such a long time, finding that she had been alive all along, wandering through Arda with some puerile grudge against him and his kin…this infuriated him beyond anything else.

This time, he grabbed her wrist in an iron grasp, yanking her close to him, only to glare at her face, in those icy depths of hers. His mouth was pressed in a thin line as he towered over her, a deep frown upon his features and his vice grip only tightening in warning when she tried to pull away again, mirroring his own fury.

"Do not speak of loss to me." his voice was cold and sharp, the tone a hiss on his lips. Another hard yank of her wrist followed suit as she struggled to have him let go. This sudden shake made her stop and lock her eyes with his, breathing heavily. "What do you know of loss, Thranduil?" she asked in a vicious whisper, like the bite of a snake "The only ones that died in your life were your father and precious wife, that does not even come close to losing everything you ever knew." the fae spat furiously, with fire behind her eyes.

"I lost everything when I lost you, Shea." her name rolled on his tongue, dripping with venom and wrath, all while his grip tightened so much she couldn't stop the choked gasp of pain that struck her. She watched him with newfound fear, heart drumming in her ears. "You remain lost to me. You are not the woman I once knew, you are but a shadow of what she used to be, lingering in the darkest depths of her heart, blackened with hatred, dirtied and rotten. Does your soul still inhabit this empty husk or was it consumed by the monstrous and disgusting illness that rooted itself within you?"

His rancorous words made her breath hitch, her eyes widening at what her ears were hearing. "Do not even dare speak of my beloved wife, or even mention her, you are not worthy of it. " another thread of spiteful utterance that made her flinch, but he was not done yet. After a short pause, he continued "You could have come to me, you could have let me correct all the wrongs; instead, you chose foolery and left me to believe you had died, let me blame myself for not being able to save you, to reach you in time. How dare you come here and accuse me, my kin of the putrid smell of death that surrounds you still? Bearing my people ill will, you do not even deserve me to look upon you. To think you were going to be fit for a queen once? I must have been mad." –with that, he shoved her away from him, making her lose her balance and fall on the ground, a gasp slipping her lips at the collision.

The fall didn't hurt her as much as his words did. Now, as she looked up at him, even when he turned his back to her and climbed the stairs to his throne, she knew –he became a king, seasoned and hardened, having stood against many enemies, majestic in his loneliness. He evolved, while she remained somewhere behind, while she drowned in her sorrow and hatred. Was it perhaps misplaced? She swallowed the knot in her throat, finding no energy to stand back up.

Four guards entered the throne platform as if on cue. "Get her out of my sight." –with the last stab that he could deliver at her pride and dignity, two guards hurriedly scooped her up by her arms and yanked her with them forcefully.

She didn't struggle, she didn't yell or complain, she remained numb as they dragged her back to her chambers, the silence deafening, even as they threw her back inside and slammed the door shut behind her. Once she was left with her own thoughts, Shea collapsed to her knees and stayed there on the ground, breathing leveled now, staring blankly at the hands in her lap. She went there brave and determined and he broke all that in miserable little pieces. Slow realization settling over her like a suffocating blanket. Had she been delusional? No. That could not be it. She knew better. She saw it with her own eyes.

Had she been wrong to hold this antediluvian grudge? No, he could not fool her. Not her.

She didn't realize when she started crying until she could only see the blurry shapes of the room. Her hiccups, her sobs and loud wails echoing around her –she realized she never properly mourned the death of all she loved. So hard she clung to her hatred that she made it her goal to forget the past and focus on the future, with no time to let her sorrow drench her cheeks. Shea mourned her family and her kin, until the very dawn, the sounds of her cries carried throughout the hallways, her screams sharp and painful, her rage, her emotions succumbing the fort to silence.

…

When the first rays of sun spilled upon the earth, the fae was curled upon the bed, squeezing the last bits of her sadness out with soft moans and whines. She did not know her chest could hurt so much or that she held so much within herself, suppressed herself in such a way. At least now, she had settled her thoughts. She would investigate, she would prove to herself that she had not been mad. His betrayal, she would show it to all.

Ylvis couldn't bring herself to enter her chambers, the guards spoke nothing of it and Tauriel would sometimes stop to gaze at the door, but leave, deciding not to disturb the woman. Even in the morning, the maid was unsure if she should walk in with the usual tray of food, but with a bit of courage, the half-elf opened the door to chaos. The lady's chambers were ruined, vases broken, things thrown around, pieces of broken mirror laying on the ground. A bit of panic pooled within her stomach when she saw the bundle under the covers of the disheveled bed, Ylvis leaving the tray on the vanity and hurrying to the woman in a heartbeat. With shaky hands, praying to Eru that she did not do something stupid, the maid pulled the cover off, revealing a curled up Shea, amidst all the destruction, sleeping quietly.

It was when she pulled the blanket off completely, that she noticed the splotch of blood at the woman's feet and almost had a heart attack. The bandages that were wrapped over the wound, soaked with crimson –had she re-opened her wound? Frantically, she went back to the door and told a guard to call the healer as fast as he could, before rushing back inside and shaking the woman.

"My lady! My lady please awaken!"

Her eyes barely opened and her forehead scrunched as soon as she stirred awake, the pain in her leg hitting her like a wave. "My lady, the healer is on the way! What have you done?"

"What?" she moaned groggily, trying to turn around. Ylvis assisted her with that while the healer hurried inside and the covers were thrown away. "It is nothing to worry about. You probably moved around quite a lot of have it open again." the verdict only made Shea scoff in annoyance. Yes, it hurt, but this wound was causing too much hassle. If anything, amidst her nightly destruction, she didn't even realize it had re-opened. Probably hit her leg against something, maybe the chair that she then threw out of spite. Now that her eyes were taking in the surroundings and all she did, the satisfaction she felt was slowly vanishing away.

Ylvis breathed out her relief, however, leaving the healer elleth to do her job. This woman was certainly too much to handle for her poor heart.

* * *

Ego! = Leave!

Hiril vuin = my beloved lady

Gi nathlam hí = you are welcome here

Ni ú-edhel. Ú-bedin edhellen = I'm not an elf. I don't speak Elvish.

an ngell nînn = please


	7. Chapter 7

hello hello, I come with an update, kind of late, yes, buuuut it's a longer chapter !

thank you all for reading, following and reviewing my story, I really hope it lives up to expectations

 **alliesmiley2 :** thank you again!

 **cxrclet :** ah, thank you for the compliment ; D; I'm genuinely happy you like her so much! I'm aiming to make her, well, not your ordinary female oc, a bit twisted, a bit wrong, with flaws and traits that define her as an individual. The fact that her people died only amplified the worst in her, however. I'm having fun with her extreme trust issues and inner thoughts. Indeed, she lives by the notion 'I will believe it when I'll see it with my own eyes' and her moral compass is terribly out of tune, but who can blame her, right? Dude, you can gush however much you want over her, I'm really happy she's so well-received. As for Thranduil, oh, he definitely did all that to achieve said effect. I see him as someone that lost a lot in his life and when he has a chance to gain something back, he will. Like with the gems, he took the opportunity presented, despite it being reckless and costing the lives of his men. As you said, they reached the point where they understood the fact that they changed and are different people. There will be lots of angst and fluff and drama that will come, so stay tuned, ya? Thanks for your wonderful review, loved reading it!

without further ado, here's the 7th chapter!

* * *

...

 _The fire was crackling delightfully, drowned out some by the chants and the dancing and the drums accompanied by flutes and tambourines. Laughter resounded throughout the Ivory Halls, the celebration of the autumn's harvest now upon the faeries. They liked to dance and play music to their heart's desire when such an event occurred; a bonfire would be risen in the center of the kingdom and all participated to honor the moon and the stars, the earth and the wind, the sun and the fauna for the fruitful cycle._

 _Queen Luel and King Fafner would oversee that everything was in order, the feast and the wine plenty, the guests, usually dwarves or elves, satisfied with the preparations. Rani was entertaining some elven and faerie girls, dancing with them and letting them touch his wings, basking in their attention, while Fira was locked in a dance with her fiance. Shea, however, was not interested in participating in the activity, preferring to remain at one of the wooden tables around the bonfire, observing everyone quietly from her position. At the same table was a lady from Rivendell, beautiful raven hair and blue eyes with skin as fair as the moon, watching with a smile on her face as the choir of faeries by the higher chairs of the queen and king sang and played their instruments._

 _"Princess Fira told me you are to be wedded soon," the ravenette spoke, glancing at the fay with the same smile as before. Was she trying to make small talk? Shea's eyes struck like a spear, widened a bit at the nature of the inquiry. "No...I will not be wed...not while I breathe."_

 _"Ah, my mistake, my belief was that the king had chosen someone for you already."_

 _"I have no interest in anyone." the response made an airy chuckle leave the lips of the elleth "Is your heart set on somebody already then?"_

 _"...no…" but by the way she refused to make eye contact with the lady from Rivendell, her predicament was made clear. "I see…" she turned to face Shea, eyes like sapphires settled onto the faerie's face, but the other woman was not interested in doing the same. Instead, she kept her icy depths on the bonfire and the people dancing around it joyously._

 _"Princess Shea, if I could offer my advice…" the fae's gossamer wings fluttered in irritation "...follow your heart, it will never deceive you.." just as the elleth finished, the general of the army came to join the two, specifically Shea, his wings flattened and posture authoritative._

 _"M'lady, would you honor me with a dance?" the man, Nimbus, asked as he offered the silverette his hand. She took it without a second thought, anything to get away from the intrusive she-elf. It wasn't as if she could be rude, not if she wanted to roam the gardens and ride on horseback through the forest, or swim in the lake..or secretly meet her lover again. Speaking of which, the fairy was rather upset that king Oropher hadn't showed up with Thranduil at the feast, so much that she decided she would endure the presence of another and let another dance her through the night._

 _It wasn't until later, when the feast truly began and she had managed to drink some of the famous Dorwinion wine, imported all the way from the Sea of Rhun, that her lover graced the event with his presence. Slightly tipsy and with a bright smile upon her lips, she danced with the general and then some other fine lads, faeries and elves that invited her to honor them; she hadn't noticed the arrival of the elven king or the elven prince, not until they were at the side of the queen and king, exchanging words and laughter._

 _With rosy cheeks, she twirled, her partner letting go of her hand, only to be met with the arms of another. Her breath left her as soon as she saw those familiar sky blue eyes glaring with fury down at her, but she only reveled in the storm they brought. He whisked her away from the eyes of the others, sneaked away from the commotion and the laughter, under the whisper of the night's veil, until they were alone in the kingdom's rose garden. His grasp on her wrist was tight and as soon as there was no one in sight, he kissed her feverishly, drinking in her silent moan and devouring her need. They only stopped when they need to breathe, gazing into each other's eyes heatedly. "My father…" she panted "my father wishes for me to marry," her whisper was urgent and broken._

 _"You will not marry...not while I breathe," came his equally desperate reply, pulling her body flush against his armored one. "Do you understand this?" he smiled wickedly and she chuckled at the way his possessive arms grasped her hips. "Can you promise me the same?" her hands cupped his face and she pressed her forehead to his. "Amin naa lle nai, mela en' coiamin." and his lips captured hers once again, until she stopped him, her eyes lost and loving. "Promise me, Thranduil."_

 _"Gweston." her wings fluttered in joy, flattening over her back as she suddenly jumped in his embrace, her legs coming around his waist and taking him by surprise at how eager she was. Passionately, she kissed him as he tried to keep his balance at her sudden attack, helpless in her embrace and her fire._

...

Shea awoke with a sharp inhale, shooting up in bed and looking around her incredulously. Why in the whole wide world had she been dreaming about that? With a groan, she slid her palms over her face and calmed her breathing. This wretched place was taking a tool on her. She needed to act fast in order to put an end to this morbidly ironic situation she found herself in.

Where was the maid when you needed her?

* * *

Thranduil was roaming the hallways, a trail of council men after him as he discussed his plans with them, political tactics that he wished to use in order to form a stronger alliance with Rivendell and Lothlorien and their leaders. Normally, he did not care much about pleasantries, but when in need, he wanted to be sure that he would not have his people starve or die in difficult times, not after the battle of the five armies. Once a couple of years, he had to turn to diplomacy and a well arranged feast in order to continue nurturing said bonds with the other elven rulers. If anything, it was known that the elvenking despised having to work along others or pretend he enjoyed the company, yet sometimes it was a necessity.

He was in the middle suggesting preparations, dividing the tasks among his trusted and asking for reports on the well-being of his realm, the agriculture and state of the imported goods, when a guard hastily came to tell him of Shea and what she had done. Truth be told, he knew that he had hurt her with his words, but he was not going to praise insolence. Her brazenness was her undoing and he was not going to accept that she treat him as a foolish young prince any longer.

It would be a lie to say he hadn't heard her cries, it kept him awake the whole night –luckily, he had a wine bottle to keep him company before he tore his own heart out of his chest in his struggle to not go in her chambers himself. Perhaps it was a mistake to put her in the room closest to his so he could be near her, but she was also of royal descent, so she deserved to be treated as such…even if she was a ruler without a crown.

"It is nothing to worry about, my lord, but the maid wished to let you know," the guard bowed and stepped aside. He didn't expect her to be such a wild storm, she probably roamed around the room like a caged animal if she managed to re-open her wound, even if it was superficial now. With a sigh, he dismissed the council members, sending each on a chore before he started his walk towards the opposite direction where the chambers were, to check upon the faerie.

...

When he finally got to the chambers area, his eyes landed on Ylvis first, the half-elleth bowing under the weight of his gaze. "Heru en amin, I think she is sleeping..." the slightly agitated woman chirped worriedly as he halted in front of the door and stared at the dark wood of which it was made. "I will not stay long, you are dismissed." –that said, his fingers curled over the handle and opened the door with ease, no sound made when he closed it behind him, either. He kept his hands behind his back and he stepped inside, the room having been cleaned, he presumed, as he was told it was quite a ruckus before. The silverette was on the bed, her face up, eyes closed…supposedly sleeping.

The closer he got, he understood that she knew he was in the room and was feigning being asleep in order to evade his presence. A faint smile graced his lips as he watched her in silence for a few moments; he wanted to drink in the sight of her like that, it would keep him sated to see her peaceful face without the lines of anger or hatred upon it.

"You were to become queen, arwenamin…" he started, his voice calm and controlled "You cannot imagine the sorrow I felt that day; if I could have, I would have changed the course of time somehow…but not even I can handle a feat so great…" his gaze averted from her figure to the untouched tray of food on her nightstand. "I wished for you to know that what you believe happened that day, it is not the truth you seek…" his words were followed by a solemn silence.

Shea opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, bitterness biting at her throat, forming a knot in her stomach. She needed to subdue her emotions, this was an opportunity, welcomed or not, she had to try. "What is the truth I seek, Thranduil?" her voice hoarse and only above a whisper, but it was there, her eyes flicking over his grave face pressingly. With a soft huff, she sat up on the bed, shifting her legs to accommodate the bandage that was wrapped tightly around the healing wound. It was rather uncomfortable now that she could feel thoroughly. When he turned to face her, clearly surprised that she was willing to listen, Shea only averted her eyes before they would lock together. He did the same, attention moving back to the tray of food as he thoughtfully tried to piece the right words together.

"Your messenger, that forsaken day, he was badly wounded; he barely even made it to Greenwood and he was fortunate that he was found by my father's guards on patrol. He had been hunted down by a pack of orcs –I believe they knew your kingdom would send off a messenger…" he bowed his head and closed his eyes in remembrance. Shea's gaze moved to him, cold and dull. "We marched west as fast as we could, gathered the army in haste. When we got there, we only found ashes and no survivors –I do not know if anybody fled in time, if they did, I have not heard of fairies until I saw you…"

She looked away, at the hands in her lap, over the red velvet covers. Despite it making sense, despite it being logical, she refused to believe that was all it was "…I see," she replied forcefully –what was she supposed to do now? Play along. Make him believe she was open. The lingering doubts could be seen over her face, clouding her eyes and wrinkling her nose into a small motion of disgust and confusion. Thranduil, taking notice of this faster than he would have liked, took a step closer to the bed, making the faerie glance at him from the corner of her eye in a flash, but refusing to face him fully yet, she didn't trust her emotions right at this moment. Most of all, she couldn't afford being read just yet, not if she wanted to go by her plan.

He reached his hand out to her and the motion made her head turn to him with a light flinch and a daring gaze. Thranduil paused, letting his arm fall back at his side –she didn't want him to touch her in any way. He could understand why and he wouldn't press "I am not your enemy," he added once more, feeling a sour taste in his mouth at her behavior still.

It had been such a long time and he felt so strongly that it made him reckless. He missed his wife terribly, he really did, because she was a companion, he could confide in her, tell her of his past and she understood; she understood that she was not the first woman, that she was his moral support –he missed having such a friend and he grieved her death like nothing else before. Now, his first love stood before him, the complete opposite of what his wife was, old stirrings tugging painfully at his hardened heart. The elven king found himself tempted to touch her face, hold her to him and listen to her heart beating because everything seemed so surreal to him at this moment –was it so wrong if he were to be selfish for once?

"Do not touch me…" came her soft reasoning "…not yet" she trailed off in a strained tone. Her face turned away from him once more and her brows furrowed together. Perhaps his treatment from the other day made her wither further from him, a realization that made him frustrated and bitter, clenching his fists at his sides but saying nothing of it as he brought them behind him again. He had to leave before he would do or say something he would regret later. Her presence was intoxicating and he wasn't sure it was in a good way. One would think that after eons of not seeing this cunningly beautiful creature, he would forget her and commit her to the past and the back of his mind.

"I shall take my leave then, if there is something you need of me, send word. Quel esta," with a graceful nod of his head, the elvish king turned to leave her chambers.

Shea's eyes pried at his back, desperation cracking the ice blues open with bursting emotion. She had to make her first move. Fast. "I am sorry…" she quickly muttered; if he weren't an elf he might have not heard her, but when he did, he halted in his spot at the door "…about your…wife…" she added just as softly. His eyes closed for a moment, her apology soaking in. "There is nothing to be sorry about. It is the fate she chose for herself…she died honorably." he quickly stated, wishing to end this languid topic before nostalgia set in.

The faerie paused, she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She realized it was futile to try and say anything more now, so she remained silent and bit her tongue. It wasn't something he wanted to have a nice conversation about, especially her of all, so she would step back from this line.

Seeing as she preferred silence, Thranduil left her chambers, passing by a concerned Ylvis at the door. As soon as he left, the maid hurried inside to the troubled woman's bed. She heard the conversation from outside the door, she tried hard not to, but her curiosity had gotten the best of her and before she knew it, her ear had been pressed to the wood. The news were rather shocking; not only was she not an elf as everyone believed, but she was supposed to become a queen once? The newfound information made the half-elleth bow her head to the silverette in the bed, a little sheepishly.

"I assume you eavesdropped," the fae began, noticing the change in the atmosphere. "My lady…you are royalty?" the curious sprite asked, eyes twinkling with interest. "I was." Shea made sure to correct her –who was she to rule over? The ruins of her kingdom? What was a queen without her subjects? "And a fairy? I have never seen fairies before, my lady, I have only heard of the tales! Is it true they have wings? May I see yours, my lady?" –the interrogatory was starting to go awry, as the maid started bombarding her with too many questions at once. Shea simply sighed and leaned back on the headboard, cushioned by pillows.

"I don't have wings any more," she muttered tiredly, brushing a hand through her silver tresses.

"W-What happened to them?" a small pause "My lady, are you the queen of the faeries?" as the questioning continued, the woman got closer. It was normal for her kind to be curious, but this was unexpectedly bold for a servant. Ylvis seemed the kind to not pry too much, however, it seemed to Shea that she was a poor judge of character, probably from lack of practicing –"No, I was never intended to be the queen. My brother was supposed to become king…I was to be his advisor." Since the cat was out of the bag and she didn't exactly want to discuss the loss of her wings and lack of thereof, Shea decided that no harm could bring her if she entertained her maid for a bit, after all…what could go wrong?

"You had a brother, my lady? I have an older brother too, he is serving as a guard to King Thranduil, you see, he tends to ignore me, though…I believe he is rather embarrassed when I try to talk to him. He often says I am too loud and talk too much…" she started rambling comfortably, probably taking Shea's small opening as a chance to befriend her somehow. The silverette didn't care, but she didn't stop her talking either, if anything, it was soothing having somebody talk about such trivial matters with such ease. It reminded her of the good old days when all she had to worry about was getting a lecture from her mother for skipping tutoring to sneak away with Thranduil or being caught stealing some wine from her father's private cellar with her brother, Rani. She didn't know when she fell asleep, but she dreamed beautifully of her life with her siblings, running in the poppy fields hand in hand with Rani and Fira, embracing her father tightly and being scolded by her lovely mother.

She wished those days back so fervently, but she knew she had to make the most of it while it was only a fantasy of her mind.

* * *

"Where is the king's guest located?" the smooth voice belonging to Lathai was easily drowned by the whine of pain from the elf he had on the ground. It had been three days since he was here and he didn't manage to get any good information by being a damned guard on patrol every day. Sure, the food was nice and the bed felt good, yet he wanted to get this done with already. The elf, dressed in the same armor as Lathai groaned again as the boot pressed harder over his leg's wound, fresh from the dagger of the revenet.

"If you don't speak I will have to kill you. You are useless if you don't give me the information I need, which is not in your interest or advantage." the ellon thief smiled mockingly at the brown haired male at his mercy. Crouching by the body and playing with the dagger between his fingers, he hummed and thrusted the blade back in the guard's leg, where his wound was. The male let out a gurgling sound, between a choked cry and a plea, his face painted with dried blood and bruises from a good beating granted by Lathai, having hoped to alleviate his bad mood somewhat. "Look, if you tell me, this will stop, don't you want to be free?"

"I-I have a daughter…p-please…"

"Oh?" the dark ellon leaned over, a grin forming on his lips "Well, you better talk fast then." the other dagger that Lathai had, was immediately thrust in the elf's other leg, before circling him like a predator. "Time is running out, mellonamin~"

Out of spite, a kick to the guard's stomach had him curled and hurling in pain when there was no answer. The torturing was already getting boring to the thief, it had lasted for how many hours again? He didn't know, but he was losing patience fast. The forest seemed like a good place to do this too, as they were the ones supposed to patrol the east; unfortunately for this fool, he was paired with Lathai.

"T-The chambers…west wing…closest to the King's.." the man finally spluttered, blood slipping from his mouth and down his chin and cheek. Through many cuts and deep wounds, it was a miracle he remained awake, an impressing feat even to Lathai. "Ah, I see. Why did the King give her the closest chambers to his? Does he know her or something?" the dark haired elf pressed on, his own curiosity getting the best of him at finding out such interesting information about Shea. She did hate elves, so why was she staying close to their king? She must have been taken against her will, that he was sure of, but what interest did the king have in her? He heard the rumors circulating around, how the king carried her himself to the healer, how he ordered she be looked after and how nobody knew what her relation with the mighty ruler of Greenwood was. Coupled with her utter dislike for the king, he could only assume. After this was over, he was going to drown in ale. At the least he knew Shea was alive.

"I do not know…" the guard muttered, weakened and dying. Narrowing his eyes, Lathai struck him dead with a swift slash of Shea's sword that he kept at his hip, through the chest where his heart used to beat faintly. He served his purpose in his eyes, now he had to find the fae while avoiding anyone discovering him and the body. He had to make it look as if orcs took them by surprise and they went through a gruesome attack. Grimacing at the thought of having to wound himself in order to make it believable, Lathai proceeded with his plan.

...

He showed up later at sunset, hauling the body of his 'patrolling partner' over his back, with a fake expression of horror and worry plastered on his face. Of course he drew attention when he marched inside the gates with this horrific sight, so other guards were quick to jump in and help, the redheaded captain swiftly behind them with agitation in her green eyes.

"What happened?!"

"Orcs attacked us!" –the body was taken from him, revealing him limping as well, his hands bloody and bruised, arms wounded with cuts. Tauriel, seeing this, ordered two guards to take him to the healing room fast, then made to leave with six other elves to the depths of the forest to track down and kill the 'orcs' that attacked the pair. He smiled to himself, satisfied with the show he put up, before he was hurried to the healers.

There, he was taken by an elleth, the woman busily checking his vital signs and then his wounds, making notes on what she needed to clean up first. The ravenet watched with amusement as she paced around for bandages and medicine, then herbs, before noticing the scar over her arm. "It's nothing too serious.." he tried to make conversation. The healer turned to him and gave him a small smile "No, but it must be properly taken care of before it becomes too serious." she curtly stated, first turning to check the gravity his limping leg.

"I see you've got some scars of your own."

She quickly looked at her arm before shaking her head. "No, this will fade away with time; that awful girl tried to kill me while I was healing her…you know, the king's _guest_." she spoke the word as if it was poison.

This piqued his interest. "Oh? She managed to do this? Why?"

"She seemed to have quite some issues with elves in general by what I hear from other servants, made two maids cry..." the sassy woman shrugged, applying some pressure on his leg to see where it was broken. When he hissed, she stopped and went to gather something from her desk.

"That's baffling. You were the one healing her?" he prodded, winching when she returned to bandage his leg and slide two wooden sticks on each side. "Yes, she was brought here in a really bad shape. Some dire wolves took a big bite out of her leg; bad wound and hard to heal, blood loss too." the woman continued, sighing at the end. "I see. I take it you are not very fond of her," he continued, egging her on.

"Not at all actually. She caused quite a commotion when she ran off…" she paused "after she attacked me, I am rather surprised she was not thrown in the dungeons for what she did."

"Ah, yes, I heard some rumors that the king may be smitten with her…" Lathai's eyes darkened at such a thought, but he didn't let that linger in his voice. The healer finished bandaging his leg and moved to clean up his arms. "Now that you mention it, he did seem like he knew her, which is rather odd, our King never seemed to take an interest in other females other than his wife, bless her memory; so unfortunate that she died." –so there was a chance that Shea and the elvish king knew each other? He knew Shea was older than him even, but he didn't know she would have known a king, only royalties were able to be this close to other royalties.

Was Shea royalty? She told him that the kingdom she was part of fell to the attack of an army of orcs, he did hear about the fairy kingdom, even if not many were able or were permitted to visit the place. As a race, they preferred to be isolated mostly, wishing for their old traditions and beliefs to not be tainted by the outside world, very conservative –however, alliances could have been made between them and others, like the elves. Because he was born in Rivendell, he did hear of meetings their leader would partake in, even his own mother, a servant to the higher elves, let this small information slip when he asked once where their lord was going.

He didn't realize he had been spacing out, until the stinging of his wound startled him. "Don't worry, the pain is only temporary, I will give you a tonic to help you sleep well." the healer announced, stepping away from him and rummaging through the small bottles spread about the room.

"There you go," she presented him with a small blue bottle. "One drop of this and you will sleep like a newborn."

"Thank you…" he gestured towards her, as if asking for her name.

"Mewen,"

"Thank you, Mewen."

* * *

Amin naa lle nai, mela en' coiamin = I am yours to command, love of my life

Gweston = I promise.

Heru en amin = My lord

arwenamin = my lady

Quel esta = rest well

mellonamin = my friend


End file.
